


Drive You Home

by junkyardjeditrash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Army, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Disorder, Awkwardness, Beach Sex, Ben Solo Has One Brain Cell, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Bullying, Cinnamon Roll Rey (Star Wars), Consensual Sex between Teenagers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Driver's Ed, Dry Humping, F/M, Feral Rey, First Kiss, Fluff, Good Boy Ben Solo, Han and Leia live to embarrass Ben, Hand Jobs, Late 1990s attitudes towards everything, Light a candle for dial-up internet, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, No Pregnancy, Oral Sex, Orphan Rey (Star Wars), POV Alternating, Parnadee is a boss, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Rey Needs A Hug, Sassy Rey (Star Wars), Sexual Harassment, Slow Burn, Slut Shaming, So many military acronyms, Underage Drinking, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Ben Solo, food insecurity, foster care group home, han and leia ship it, minor discussion of weight, no beta we die like men, no sexual abuse, sarcastic Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 51
Words: 268,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkyardjeditrash/pseuds/junkyardjeditrash
Summary: I never said I was perfect. But I can drive you home.It’s 1998. Rey has secrets. Ben's trying to move on from his past. They both have a lot to learn about life, love, trust, and driving.This is the 90s Teen Army Brat Reylo Saga you never asked for.
Relationships: Past Snap/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 722
Kudos: 203





	1. check the mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> **Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Introducing Rey. She attends her first Driver’s Ed class. Rey meets Ben.

There is only one reason Jakku, NC, exists, and that is to support and exploit the massive military installation known as Fort Windu. It’s the way of life here—most businesses cater to the endless churn of soldiers entering and exiting the town, and just as many locals find ways to rob, murder, and cheat the dollars out of a Joe’s pockets. It’s parasitic. Symbiotic. Bipolar. The locals want those military dollars, and they hate the soldiers for acting like Jakku is just a squalid pitstop. Not that they’re wrong. Jakku sucks.

The town sprawls for miles, just a series of strip malls, trailer parks, cheap housing developments, pawn shops, and shooting ranges. It’s all unzoned, and you’ll see a church next to a strip club next to a florist next to some old lady’s house. I’m pretty sure it’s one of the ugliest places in the universe, and I don’t need to leave to confirm it. It’s just something I know, deep in my gut. And here I am. At least, until I turn 18, and I can figure something out to do with my life. Unlike the Army kids, I don’t get to leave.

I’ve been here since I was little, living with my Aunt Maz in a shabby little trailer in a dumpy little trailer park behind a strip mall with a wig store, the Wexley Army Surplus shop, a Goodwill, and a really iffy Chinese restaurant. I’ve never been anywhere, and my future prospects don’t look so hot, either.

The last school bell of the day rings, and everyone in my sophomore English class hustles to shove their spiral notebooks, binders, and copies of _A Separate Peace_ into their backpacks. I love to read, but I think this novel is super shitty, and I’m not sure how much it really has to say to a typical Jakku kid, or even one of the army kids. A story about rich boys coming of age who have problems I couldn’t dream of having isn’t exactly relatable. Still, I fake interest and enthusiasm for the material, and Ms. D’acy smiles at me as I exit the classroom. I ignore the way Bazine shoulders rudely past me, nearly forcing me into the door frame.

Bazine and I had been friends in middle school, but we drifted before we reached Jakku High School. I’m a little shabby around the edges—most of my clothes are second-hand or third-hand, and I have never had a proper haircut in a beauty salon--and she had her heart set on the cheerleading squad. We weren’t on bad terms, just no terms. But that changed after summer when the ugly whispers began to follow me in the hallways.

No matter about her. My day’s not over, because it’s the first day of this semester’s Driver’s Ed class. I turn 16 over the summer, so this is my last chance to take the class before my birthday. I’ve been desperate for this moment for nearly two years. All teenagers want to drive and have a taste of freedom, and I suppose I’m no different. The thought of just getting in my car and going somewhere without having to figure whose mom can come get me or return me to my house is going to be a luxury. But more than anything, I need my driver’s license so I can get a decent job. And I desperately need to increase my income.

“Rey! Wait!”

I turn my head to see Finn and Rose running to catch up, their backpacks swinging wildly, Rose nearly dropping her discman in the process. They were in the science hall in the Anatomy & Physiology lab with Mr. Ackbar, and from the formaldehyde smell lingering on themand the fact they’re covered in fur, they’ve been elbows-deep dissecting cats. I’m in Bio, and you couldn’t pay me to take A&P. Mr. Ackbar failed to convince me to take that class when he chased me around the classroom with a stiffened, shrink-wrapped cat. Good god, dude.

“Well, come on!” I motion for them to hurry up. I haven’t known either of them for long. Both Finn and Rose are Army brats whose families PCSed to Fort Windu at the start of the school year. They met over the summer while hanging out at the swimming pool, and even though I’m the one who has been in Jakku her whole life, they kind of swept me up into their world.

And they don’t seem to know about what happened last summer, which is nice. And if they do know, they don’t care and never ask me about it. They are easygoing and never push me for more information than I want to give. We have enough to talk about with our classes, school events, and whatever nonsense we’re watching on TV, anyway.

Their parents are amazingly kind to me, too, especially Mrs. Tico, who never sends me home without food. She’s always pinching my cheeks and asking if Maz is feeding me, which I just laugh off. From the look on her face, however, she has her doubts. I should probably not go over there for a while. Mrs. Tico is a little bulldog like Rose when she gets something in her head.

“I hope we get assigned to drive together,” I tell them. It would be a lot less stressful to be with friends when learning the finer points of parallel parking and backing around a corner. I drive Maz’s little Ford Escort around the trailer park and to the grocery story, but those are all super low speed roadways, right turns, and no fancy parking maneuvers.

I know I’m not supposed to, but I do what I need to do to get by, and I try only to drive very early in the morning when there aren’t so many cars on the road. At least I have a learner’s permit now. After Rose and I turned in our paperwork to take Driver’s Ed, Rose’s mom was nice enough to pick me up so I could get my picture taken and a permit printed for me at the DMV.

“My dad’s been teaching me already,” Finn says with a bright grin. He has the nicest smile—it warms his whole face, making his deep brown eyes light up. It’s fun to see how Rose brightens and flushes whenever she looks at him. They’ve been pretending not to be into each other, but it’s super obvious that they are crushing hard. “So I’m pretty much an expert.”

Rose snorts.

“No, you are not,” she laughs, smacking his arm. “Anyway, let’s go.”

The classroom is nearly full, and there aren’t three seats together by the time we get inside. Rose and Finn quickly spot two seats on the far side of the room. They hesitate, looking at me, but I smile and wave them off. It seems a shame to separate them when they’re so adorably into each other. I’m fine on my own, anyway, and I pause just inside the classroom door to scan for a seat.

There are a lot of familiar faces, mostly sophomores like me, but plenty of juniors, too. There are about thirty of us in this class, I estimate, and it looks like every seat is taken. A few people glance up at me, then look away with disinterest. I get a friendly smile from Poe Dameron, who is already seated next to Rose and Finn, and who I know from science class last year. He’s an olive-skinned boy with dark eyes and wavy hair who always seems to have something witty and charming to say.

It’s then that I notice Snap Wexley, my… well, whatever he is, or was, not that he ever really was, is holding court with his usual pack of hyenas. He looks up and sees me standing awkwardly at the front of the room, and his smile broadens as if this is a profoundly satisfying turn of events, and I see him elbow Dakk and point at me. Dakk snorts audibly.

My stomach tightens uncomfortably, and I lower my eyes as I keep to the edge of the classroom hoping there’s a seat as far away from him as I can possibly get. I am obligated walk past Armitage Hux, his lanky frame folded into an awkwardly small desk, and he eyes me with a knowing glance before turning back to his notebook where he’s scribbling something. Behind him is a boy I don’t know who seems even taller and broader than Hux, and I can’t see his face because he’s hanging over a book, his thick, shaggy black hair obscuring his features. 

It’s behind the large boy that I finally spot a desk. And no small wonder I couldn’t see it, since his size effectively blocked it from view. I slip into the seat, dropping my backpack on the floor, relieved. As silly as it is, I feel more protected, less conspicuous seated at a desk. As excited as I have been for this class, I’m now wondering if it’s worth it, enduring _his_ presence. Maybe I should drop and demand a refund. _No_ , I tell myself. _I have a right to be here._ _I can do this. I can get through this class, even if he’s in it, because I must_. He doesn’t get to determine what I can and cannot do.

There’s only one problem, now that I’m sitting. The broad back and shoulders belonging to the boy in front of me completely obscure the front of the room. I can’t see the board or the projector screen, and I can’t even see the podium or teacher’s desk. I lean to the side to see if I can get a better angle. Unless I hang over the desk with my spine at a 90-degree angle, there’s just no way I’m going to see anything.

I sit back with a huff. My thoughts are spinning fast. I’m already on edge from seeing so many unfriendlies in this classroom, and so I glare petulantly at the sasquatch sitting in front of me. He is rudely large, and I’m not going to sit here and just accept not seeing what’s going on for a class I’ve paid for. My money is too scarce for that.

I sigh inwardly. I don’t know him at all, and I really don’t want to sit any closer to Hux than I absolutely have to, but I can’t see. Talking to him is necessary, so I grit my teeth and muster up the nerve. I use my notebook to tap his shoulder, not wanting to touch him directly. It seems rude to me to put my hands on someone I don’t know.

“Hey.”

He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even react, as far as I can tell, he’s so absorbed in his book. So I smack just a little harder with my notebook, this time on his rather solid-looking bicep. I’m not going to lie, I enjoy the smacking noise it makes. He still doesn’t move a muscle, and I realize he’s doing his best to ignore me.

I lean forward to make sure he can hear me, frustrated.

“Hey. Sasquatch. Can you trade seats with me? I can’t see.”

After an agonizing moment, he turns slowly to look at me. As his whiskey-colored eyes meet mine, I feel my heart constrict. He has an oddly handsome face. Weird angles, big nose, and so many freckles and moles. The softest-looking lips I’ve ever seen. His shaggy hair doesn’t really mask his big ears at this angle, either. None of it works, and all of it works, and I just stare at him wide-eyed. It is the kind of face I want to look at again and again.

I flush bright red, immediately regretting my choice of words, and I glance down at my desk, looking at my hands, then curling my fingers into my palms so he can’t see my ragged nails. Rose has been after me to have a manicure session with her at a nail salon, but that’s not really in my budget. I should still try harder on my own.

“Um, sorry for hitting you. But, would you switch seats with me? I can’t see the board from behind you.” I kind of motion at myself, then at him, my hand moving higher to illustrate the issue.

His lips press together and his jaw works, and I realize I’ve already pissed him off. Excellent work, Sands. You’ve offended a complete stranger, probably someone who’s just PCSed to this hellhole, and now here you are smacking him with a notebook and calling him names. Whatever nerve I’d had disintegrates into dust, and I feel my shoulders slump a little under his scrutiny.

He stares at my face for a couple of heartbeats, then looks me over with glacial intensity. He sees the frayed edge of my tee shirt’s neckline, the hole in the knee of my jeans, and the scuffed Chucks on my feet, where the rubber is splitting away from the canvas. He even looks at my dingy green backpack that I’ve been hauling since 6th grade.

His lips part, and I find myself holding my breath, canting toward him unconsciously.

“No.”

And he turns back around. I sit back in shock. I have been evaluated and found wanting and thoroughly dismissed. By a stranger. Okay, to be fair, I called him Sasquatch. My shoulders hunch further as I feel a pulse of mortification. I should be use to this feeling by now, but it still hurts. I watch him lean forward and murmur something to, Hux, who laughs.

It wasn’t enough that easily 75% of the student population here looks at me like I’m garbage, I had to go and make a brand new enemy of someone who already seems to be buddies with Armitage Hux, that arrogant prick. If he doesn’t have an inkling of what people say about me, it won’t take long before he does know, with Hux at his side.

I resolve then to avoid them both, and to try to find another seat as soon as I can next week. I won’t wait for Rose and Finn next Monday—I’ll get here early and get a better spot.

The rest of Driver’s Ed is uneventful. The ROTC instructor, Retired Lt. Colonel Parnadee is our driving instructor. We’ll be watching some (rumored to be gruesome) videos, going over the road rules handbook, learning basic automotive maintenance things like lifting the hood to check fluids and checking tire pressure, and most importantly, we’ll be driving.

As she discusses the highlights of the twelve-week program, I am starting to taste freedom already. My mind drifts and I see myself behind the wheel of the little Ford Escort, driving in the sunshine on my way to work, having enough money to stop for lunch, maybe even pulling onto the highway one day and leaving Jakku forever. I can do this, I tell myself again. I can take this step, finally get road legal, and after I have a little money put aside, I can…

Before I can complete the thought, Parnadee’s voice rings out. Oh good, the important part. Driving group assignments. These are the people we’d drive with and do all class group work with. When we did the paperwork to join this class, Finn, Rose, and I had made sure to mark the same days of the week so we’d have a better chance of getting group together for the driving sessions. I lean forward, chewing on my lip to see if our scheme work had worked.

“Group 1: Rose Tico, Finn Johnson, and Poe Dameron.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. I look across the room at Rose and Finn, and they’re making sad faces at me. Poe is already turning towards them, grinning eagerly.

“Group 2: Gwen Phasma, Snap Wexley, and Zorii Bliss.”

Looked like Group 2 was officially Team No Fun. 

“Group 3: Rey Sands, Armitage Hux, and Ben Solo.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Hux is awful and Snap’s unofficially official right-hand man. This could not be worse for me.

And apparently, Sasquatch was Ben Solo, because his head bobs up at the sound of his name. Yep, it’s officially worse for me. Life, ah, finds a way.

And apparently, Sasquatch was Ben Solo, because his head bobs up at the sound of his name. Hux leans back and whispers something to Sasqu—Solo, and I see him tilt his head before looking over his shoulder to give me a quick glance. I gather that Hux just filled him in on my identity. When he’s facing forward again, I hear him heave a sigh and his shoulders slump forward. He’s clearly not impressed with the idea of me as a group member.

Hux just laughs, before turning to smirk at me with his cold, blue eyes. I really hate that guy. His dad’s a retired Army General who owns a firm that does contract work on Fort Windu. I can’t fathom why anyone would stay in Jakku intentionally, but I guess his old man is just as eager to make money off the Army post as any of the locals. Hux is filled with the bravado of having an important father, and he treats nearly everyone he encounters like a peasant scourge.

When Parnadee lets us go, I can’t get out of there fast enough. I say a quick goodbye to Rose and Finn, declining their offer of a ride home. I think I’d rather walk. I need to clear my head, and while it’s five miles, I’m not carrying too much in my bag today. Per usual, Driver’s Ed is already not going according to plan, and just thinking about class next week is making my insides twist anxiously. I’d thought I’d have Rose and Finn as a safety net, and now I’m in freefall. I take a shaky breath, and I try to think of what Maz would tell me.

_Ignore them, Rey. You’re a clever girl, and you’ll succeed._

_Do your work, and good things will happen._

_You are stronger than you know._

I frogger across the busy road in front of the high school since there aren’t any crosswalks, and I don’t want to walk too far out of my way. I’m used to dealing with the cars honking at me just because they can as I run for my life across four lanes of traffic. It’s unusually warm for February, and when I’m safely on the other side of the road, I pause to wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. I put my hands on my backpack’s straps and heft the bag a little, and I head off along the roadside. When the sidewalk runs out, I walk in the brown grass, kicking beer bottles.

About a mile in, I come to an intersection where there is a rare crosswalk, and I am waiting for the little walking man signal to light up, when a silver car approaches. It’s some kind of vintage ride with tail fins and round lights, and while I see an older man driving, his hair silvering at the temples, I see Ben Solo hunched over in the passenger seat, glaring purposefully out the window, ignoring whatever it is the older man, his father, I guess, is saying.

Ben looks up as the car goes by, and I see the flash of recognition in his face. He looks surprised, rather than thoroughly displeased, to see me, and his plush lips part slightly. For the briefest moment, I think he’s about to give a half-hearted wave to me when I see his shoulder twitch. He doesn’t.

I shrug and keep walking. It’s getting dark, and I don’t want to linger outside at night. Not in Jakku. Women disappear here sometimes. People get shot. Transient towns, transient problems.

When I get home, my trailer is dark and empty. I flick on the light in the tiny, entry way with the cracked linoleum and take off my shoes. I drag my backpack into the shabby but cozy living area with the lumpy plaid-upholstered couch and the crocheted blanket, the little coffee table covered in electronics parts and wires and hand tools from my afternoons spent picking and tinkering, and the precious few photos of Maz and me on the wall. The TV is on its own stand, with some VHS tapes stacked haphazardly on the floor.

I look at the answering machine on the side table. No messages.

My stomach growls, and I shuffle into the kitchen tiredly to make myself dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic!
> 
> I love high school AUs, but I went to high school such a long time ago, that it seems the 90s are my only real frame of reference for the teenage experience. Also, I haven’t seen too many military (or military brat) AUs, and I'd like to add to the mix, based on my own experiences. I’m not going to get too deep into Army land beyond the culture of it. I was never in the Army, and I shan’t be describing combat, because I would feel ridiculous. I will do my best to explain any military acronyms or terms that come up.
> 
> I have a loose plot in mind, but I like to let my characters tell me what to write. I will update tags as I go, but please feel free to request any tags you might want. I do, in fact, give a shit. 
> 
> Joe – Nickname for US Army Soldiers. As in, GI Joe. 
> 
> PCS = Permanent Change of Station
> 
> Bellava Parnadee is low-key my favorite character in Rise of Skywalker. She is 100% That Bitch, and I love her.
> 
> Many Army posts are named after Confederates, which is, to say the least, unfortunate. The least I could do was name my fictionalized post after Mace Windu. 
> 
> Yes, I have been chased by a science teacher wielding a shrink-wrapped cat. This is a thing that happened in the 90s, kids.
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	2. put on your seatbelt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Introducing Ben and his parents. Ben learns something awkward about Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Your mother’s got meetings ‘til late, so it’s just us for dinner, kid,” my dad mutters as he pulls out of the school parking lot.

“Fine,” I grunt. That means spaghetti, the only food dad can reliably prepare. Since he’s retired, he’s been cooking more, with incredibly mixed results. I’m pretty sure mom is both entertained and aggravated at the adventures of her newly minted house husband.

“Pesto? Or marinara?” he asks, pausing at an intersection.

“Pesto with…” I drift off, noticing the pretty but slightly rude girl from Driver’s Ed at the road’s edge, wiping sweat off her face. Rey Sands.

Her chestnut brown hair looks disheveled, and her face is flushed. I feel a moment of pity for her, guessing she has a long walk home in the weirdly hot evening. I guess she doesn’t have anyone who can come get her if she can’t ride the school bus at the end of the day.

I haven’t seen her on the school bus from Fort Windu in the mornings, so she must be a local. My hand twitches of its own volition to wave at her, and then I remember her poking at me and calling me Sasquatch, and I drop my hand back in my lap. She’d at least looked shame-faced about it when I refused to switch seats with her. Though to be fair to her, I had been ignoring her, and she had started politely enough.

I’d watched her, neatly but shabbily dressed, tentatively pick her way around the classroom to find a seat, her eyes flicking back and forth like a nervous deer waiting for a wolf to attack. Whatever was going on in that classroom, I decided then that it wouldn’t be my concern. She’s on her own, just like everyone else.

The truth is, I really don’t want anything to do with anybody. I’ve PCSed with my parents so many times, I’ve given up on connecting with my classmates, and starting in the second half of my junior year just doesn’t appeal to me. I have a year and a half to get through, and then I’ll go to college or something.

“Pesto with what?” Dad asks, absent-mindedly drumming his hands on the steering wheel of the Falcon. His gold dice gleam where they dangle over the rearview mirror.

“Oh, uh. Chicken. I like that pan-seared chicken you made the other night. Can you show me how to do that?” I try to lighten up and participate, at least a little.

Dad seems delighted, and his grin as crooked as ever. I’ve been promising Mom that I’ll try harder with him, and let him show me things. He has nothing but time for me now. “Sure can, kid. It’s good you want to cook. Women like that.”

“Is that why you waited until twenty years into your marriage to learn?” I retorted, shifting uncomfortably. After my last growth spurt, I could never seem to find enough space for my legs anywhere I sat. My mother mutters about the cost of constantly having to buy me new clothes, and now the difficulty includes finding clothes that even fit. Long legs. Big feet. Big shoulders. Big fucking ears, too. Sometimes I feel too big for this world, lumbering around awkwardly.

Sasquatch. Well, she’s not wrong. I sigh, thinking of the high color on her face as I’d stared her down. I guess I could chill out a little. I’ve got 12 weeks of Driver’s Ed to get through with her, and I really don’t want it to be awkward. Hux, on the other hand, seems ready to revel in the awkwardness with a malevolent glee I don’t understand.

_“This is just too perfect, Solo,” he said as we left the classroom, watching her haul ass ahead of us down the walkway. “Entirely too perfect.”_

_“…why? We’re just driving with her. What’s the deal?”_

_He claps a hand against my shoulder, grinning like the devil, and says, “I’ll tell you later tonight. She really made a name for herself last summer.”_

_I just shrug. He’s in all my classes, so I’ve spent the last month in his orbit. He’s… okay. Snap and Dakk saunter by, hands in their pockets, looking rather self-satisfied. They seem as amused as Hux by everything._

_“How’d you get so lucky, Hux?” Snap asks with a laugh, rubbing a hand through his curly hair. “God that would have been fun getting assigned to a group with her.” He laughs rather unpleasantly._

_“She’d probably just whine and cry about it and beg Parnadee to put her elsewhere,” Dakk comments, rolling his eyes._

_I look between the three of them and mutter that I have to go meet my dad on the pick-up loop._

My dad rolls his eyes. I can only be nice to him and Mom in spurts, it feels like. I’m just so damn restless. Maybe I’ll feel better when I can drive and maybe get a part time job or something. It’s embarrassing to be sixteen already, seventeen next month, and I only have a learner’s permit. Waiting around to be picked up by them like a middle schooler. We’d been in Chandrila before this move to Jakku, and it’s not exactly convenient to get a US driver’s license overseas.

“If I’d started cooking for your mother sooner, you might have had siblings.”

I groan and cup my hands over my ears. The only thing my dad loves more than mortifying me is mortifying me in front of other people. I’ve got to change the subject fast.

“So when I get my license, can I have the Falcon?”

Dad steers the car up to the main gate of Fort Windu, giving me a sidelong look before passing our ID cards to the gate guard on duty. The young Specialist glances over the cards before handing them back, then crisply salutes my dad. He might be retired now, but he had been a warrant officer--A pilot for Black Hawk helicopters.

“Airborne!”

“All the way,” dad replies automatically before pulling away and onto post. The manicured, well-maintained buildings and homey neighborhoods are vastly different from of the messy, lawless sprawl of Jakku, with its surplus of cheap apartments, dingy tract housing, and run-down trailer parks.

Everything on Windu is clean and in good repair, from the commissary and P/X, to the little elementary school, to the swimming pools, to the rows of tidy brick houses in the various housing areas. The sidewalks stretch unbroken, and the landscaping is pristine. There’s even an ice skating rink. Fort Windu has so much that Jakku doesn’t. There are little, brown signs everywhere, neatly labeling every building. Everything on Windu is orderly.

“Well?” I press further, hoping for an answer.

“Not on your life,” my dad replies. He glances at me, lifting one of his gray eyebrows. “After the stunts you pulled in Chandrila last year, you’re lucky to be riding in the Falcon. You’re lucky I talked your mother into letting you take Driver’s Ed so you can get a license.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” I mutter. Chandrila had been a lot of fun. Until it wasn’t. I might not care for the dilapidated town of Jakku or the scrubby, ugly sand pine forests surrounding it, but even I can admit it was time I got a change of pace. Things had been spiraling for a long time, and we all needed to get out of there before there were more broken windows and broken bones left in my wake.. My mother had volunteered for this posting, and she and dad had decided that this would be the last PCS for me at least. Mom wouldn’t have to deploy anywhere, dad had gone ahead and retired, and I could finish high school.

We have a year and a half to pretend everything is normal. To be more of a family. To rebuild what was lost in Chandrila.

I heave a sigh. “Look, I’m sorry about everything. I’m working hard to do better. If I got a job, would you and mom maybe consider helping me buy a car? I’ll pay you back. I’ll buy my own gas.”

Dad turns into one of the leafy neighborhoods. The homes here are larger and more spread apart than the rows of brick houses near the main gate. These are cream-colored stucco with red, Spanish-style tile roofs. This is where the senior officers on post listed. Senior officers like my mom.

“We’ll see, okay? Let’s just get you through Driver’s Ed, and we’ll talk about it. Keep your grades up. Don’t… well, you know. You’re doing great right now.”

I sigh. Dad pats me awkwardly on the back, and we climb out of the Falcon after he parks it.

After dinner, after loading the dishwasher, I’m alone in my room. I can hear the TV downstairs. Dad’s watching Monday Night Football, and I’m supposed to be doing chemistry homework. I’m balancing chemical equations, one after the other, in preparation for the test on Friday. Thanks to the funds brought in from Fort Windu, Jakku High School has pretty solid academics. It’s the largest military installation in the United States, and so the school gets a lot of funding. When the Army kids graduate from elementary school, they have to go off post into Jakku for everything else. The locals don’t seem to care too much, but the military people do.

After a couple of hours, I hear the front door open and close. Mom’s home. I step into the hallway and look down the staircase to wave at her. She looks tired as she tugs her red wool beret off her head and slumps into a chair where she’s unlacing her boots and unblousing her uniform pants.

“Hey, mom,” I say lightly. I’m trying to talk to her more. The counselor said I should try. I sit on the steps across from her.

“Hey, Benny,” she says with a smile. “You’re up late. Did your dad feed you?”

“Yeah, and then he walked me around the lake and played frisbee with me,” I snarked, then watched her sigh and press her face into her hands. I immediately feel awful.

“Ben. Do you know how many PowerPoint presentations I had to sit through today? And I have to be up at 4 a.m. for formation and PT. Maybe don’t make everything a sarcasm contest. We all know that you’ve already won, okay?”

I nod. Well, if she’s wanting me to tone down my sarcasm, it’s a hell of an ask. Thanks to her and my dad, their blended genes have produced an offspring with a weaponized sarcasm. It’s not my fault. I’m genetically predisposed.

“Sorry. Uh… Dad made the pan-seared chicken with pesto spaghetti. I did the chicken, though. It didn’t turn out too bad. There’s a plate made up for you,” I say, standing up. “Want me to heat it up for you?”

Mom’s face softens, and she reaches out to hug me tightly for a brief second, her head barely reaching my shoulder. I might be a sasquatch, but my mom is tiny. Even so, when she’s in her uniform and in front of her soldiers, there’s no one more commanding.

“You go to bed. Leave the sleep deprivation to the experts. Why don’t you think about Spring Break? I’m going to take leave, and we’ll do a family trip. Give me your top three places you’d like to go. Eastern seaboard, please.”

I nod. That’s part of the deal now that we’re all here. More family time. More counselling. I still don’t know what exactly I’m supposed to say to her. I’m still embarrassed by my past behavior. I’m still angry with her and dad. But at least I know now that I love them, and they love me back. 

“G’night. Dad’s in the living room. Might be asleep already. Geezer.” I give her a quick grin and bound back up the stairs.

Instead of climbing into bed, I turn on my computer monitor and double-click my ISP’s icon and log in. It connects through my dial-up modem, which is 56k of lightning speed, connected through my own phone line. The modem screams and screeches for nearly a minute, then it connects. As soon as I pull up AIM, the notifications start piling up, chirping and blooping again and again. Looks like Hux and Gwen and some other people are excited about the Driver’s Ed group assignments.

**GlamazonGwen** : This is such bullshit. Parnadee should have let us sign ourselves up. Zorii’s going to kill all of us. Have you seen how she handles the Bunsen burner in Chem? She’s a maniac.

 **xXBenOSXx:** It’s just a few hours a week. Trapped in an enclosed space. With someone you hate. What could go wrong?

 **GlamazonGwen** : Fuck you, Solo.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Who else is in your group?

 **GlamazonGwen** : Snap Wexley. He’s a twat, always bragging about the girls he allegedly bangs. I have the worst group of anyone in this fucking class. Am I cursed by the gods?

 **xXBenOSXx** : Probably.

I close out of the AIM conversation with Gwen, and a message from Hux is already waiting for me.

**HuxSupreme:** So you want to know about Rey Sands?

 **xXBenOSXx:** I feel like you’re expecting me to say yes. Otherwise you’re going to keep dangling it over my head like it’s the greatest secret in the world. So what is it? Does she have webbed feet?

 **HuxSupreme:** Well, you saw how she was in class today. Acts stand-offish and nervous?.

 **xXBenOSXx:** I guess? She smacked me with her notebook and called me sasquatch. Not that stand-offish?

 **HuxSupreme** : Hold on a minute. Sending you something.

My email notification pings. Hux has sent me a .jpg attachment. It loads slow as molasses, pixelated line by pixelated line. After a few minutes, things are suddenly less blurry. A lot less blurry.

And infinitely shocking. It was a picture of Rey Sands--mussed hair, flush-faced, wide-eyed, and clearly startled, sitting up in a tumbled bed, and very, very naked. I slammed my hand on the mouse, closing out of the image as fast as I could, deleting the file, deleting the email, wishing I could delete it from my brain.

**xXBenOSXx:** What the hell? How do you even have that picture?

 **HuxSupreme:** She’s a little slut. Snap was bragging about fucking her, so we told him to prove it.

 **xXBenOSXx:** You shouldn’t be sharing that. I don’t know her, and I don’t care who she’s fucked.

 **HuxSupreme:** Well, she has always acted like a holy virgin, but she’s just as easy as any little Jakku tramp. Just so you know what a little hypocrite she is. Don’t fall for her sad-eyed routine.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Whatever. Well, now I know. It’s not really relevant to Driver’s Ed, so thanks for that. I’m mostly hoping she doesn’t run us into a ditch.

 **HuxSupreme:** Are you a holy virgin, too, Ben Solo? You’re not interested at all? Snap said she was always good for a lay.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Ha. Ha. Fuck off, Hux.

I log off my ISP and shut down my computer after that. I slide into bed and run my hands over my face. I don’t want to think about it but when I close my eyes, I can still see her pretty tits. And the small patch of dark hair at the apex of her slim thighs. I immediately feel like a piece of shit, because I also think of the startled expression on her face. Something tells me she didn’t volunteer for that picture.

Maybe I can forgive her for calling me sasquatch. That seems pretty minor compared to the rash of shit Hux seems ready to give her in coming weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s kind of a spoiled brat. He has his reasons—but yeah, there’s some pouty entitlement going on. He’s also trying his best. 
> 
> Poor Rey. I do NOT advocate slut-shaming. I will tag appropriately for this. 
> 
> Blousing/unblousing: Soldiers “blouse” their uniform pants over their boots. This involves tucking their pants into their socks, putting on their boots, then pulling on their pants so they make a little tidy mushroom cap over the top of their boots. It’s a whole thing. 
> 
> Red beret: The 82nd Airborne’s soldiers wear red wool berets. Fun fact: Singing “He wore a raspberry beret, the kind you find at a second-hand store!” does NOT go over well with that crowd. All that counts is that I was amused. 
> 
> PT: Physical Training. Soldiers get up stupid early to do PT and formation. Then they are expected to shower, eat, and report to their units for the day. They put in very long days, even in garrison (on their home post on US soil). 
> 
> Death by PowerPoint is a thing in the Army. Lawd do they love a PowerPoint slide deck. It’s nuts. Poor Colonel Organa. She cannot enjoy that shit. Yeah, Leia’s a fuckin’ full bird. She’s a BAMF.
> 
> I'd like to have a moment of silence for AIM and dial-up internet. You are gone, but not forgotten.


	3. key in the ignition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Rey and Ben continue to be awkward turtles around each other. They have their first driving lesson. Rey gets some news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The weirdly warm weather turns dastardly frozen the week following that first Driver’s Ed class. My little trailer is cold, and the late winter chill that seeps in from the windows and the doors. It seems to emanate from the linoleum under my feet, as well. My fingers are too cold for me to mess about with the VCR I’ve been trying to fix for a neighbor, and I try to keep warm by making myself a cup of hot tea.

At night, I have to wear sweatpants and a thick sweater over my flannel pajamas when I go to bed, and I even pull a knit cap onto my head, just to stay warm. I used to crawl into bed with Maz on nights like these, and I miss her sweet, old ladyish snoring. I try to keep the thermostat at a reasonable temperature, knowing that as high as I crank it, the place still won’t get properly warm. I’m trying to find that balance between frugality and hypothermia.

Regardless, my electric bill is going to be awful, and I resent the expense already, especially since I’m not even remotely comfortable. For what I pay the electric company, I should feel like I’m living somewhere tropical, with a fruity umbrella drink in my hand.

Before my bus ride to school, I bundle up with a few extra layers—baggy, frayed jeans over thick, wool tights, an undershirt, following by a long-sleeved tee, with a short-sleeved tee layered over that, Maz’s old, gray wool coat, thick socks, and an old pair of combat boots I picked up at Wexley Army Surplus last summer when I was still working in the stockroom.

Kurt Cobain may be dead, but my fashion sense hasn’t moved on, at least when the weather’s cold. I’m skinny, and I need layers. Otherwise, I shiver like a malnourished chihuahua. I’ve never had the luxury of caring too much about fashion. My usual concern is whether the clothing fits and is in generally good condition. It’s a bonus if it matches. 

My bus lets out in the big loop in front of the main office, and my feet are barely on the sidewalk before Rose and Finn pounce on me. They’ve clearly been waiting for me.

“Rey! You know what this week iiiiis!?” Rose sings at me, and I raise an eyebrow at her. She starts moving her hands like they’re on a steering wheel, and she makes some _vroom vroom_ noises. I can’t help but laugh at her.

“Please, don’t remind me. I’m going to have to spend nearly two hours in a car with Hux and Sasquatch, and I’m already dreading it,” I groan, making a pained face.

“Peanut, they can’t do or say anything to you. Parnadee’s going to be right there. Just enjoy driving!” Finn advises as we walk down toward our homeroom.

I give him a sardonic look. Enjoy being trapped in a car with Hux? Suuuuure. As for Sasquatch, he’ll probably just… well, probably nothing.

+++

During the second classroom session, Parnadee insisted we pod our desks together with our drive group under the assumption that if we break the ice, we’ll be less anxious behind the wheel together than if we were total strangers. She is really anticipating some miracles, especially considering the aggressive interactions from group two.

“Noooo, pedestrians always have the right of way!” insists Snap. His voice makes me cringe, and I try to block him out.

“WRONG. Only when there is a crosswalk!” Gwen snarls at him, snatching their group test away from his. He probably shouldn’t be in charge of anything, not even filling out their names on the paper. Spineless weasel.

Things in my group are quieter, at least. There’s still an air of hostility. The first time we had to pod our desks, Ben’s eyes met mine while scooting his desk into position. I gave him a polite smile, but he just looked quickly down at his big hands, as if his fingers were suddenly fascinating. When Hux spoke, Ben could look up, but he was doing his best to ignore me every time I attempted to provide verbal input. I suppose it could be worse.

Hux would snicker, his blue eyes gleaming at me meanly. “Tell us, Sands. You excited about riding us, I mean, with us?”

He’s so blatantly crude that I frown at him and turn my attention to the paper in front of me. I fill it out neatly using a mechanical pencil to annotate which answers I think are correct before sliding it over to Ben’s desk. Suddenly, I am grateful for his lack of desire to speak to me or make any kind of eye contact. If we can have two silent parties, maybe Hux will just wear himself out or get bored. I’m already plotting a few revenge fantasies for when I get my turn behind the wheel later this week.

After class I see him pack up his things and say goodbye to Hux and Gwen, and seeing the three of them, the tallest people in the room _by far_ , in proximity, surrounded by a herd of much smaller-bodied people, I huff a small laugh under my breath at the disparity as I walk past them. Hux and Gwen ignore me, but Ben looks up at me for the first time, confused.

I just shrug and keep walking, but before I’m out of the building, I hear heavy footsteps. I pause and am startled to see Ben Solo right behind me, ears a little pink from where they poked out under his shaggy hair.

“H-hey,” he says. Eloquently. His voice is deep, and I can see it’s taking him some effort to be talking to me like this. His jaw shifts, and he purses his lips slightly, as if he’s weighing his options.

“Hey,” I reply, suddenly feeling uncertain. He’s so tall, I take a step back instinctively so I can look up at his face without craning my neck. “Did I leave something in the classroom?”

“Uh, no. Just wanted to say sorry Hux is being so rude,” he says awkwardly, pushing his hand through his hair. “I don’t really know him that well. He’s in all my classes, so we just...” he drifts off, and I see his shoulders sag slightly.

“You’re not in charge of him. He owes me an apology—not you. And yeah, I know I’m never going to get one from him,” I say lightly. I’m shocked he’s even talking to me right now. He couldn’t even bear to look at me in class, and now that he’s standing in front of me, I can see we’re not even from the same planet. His coat looks new, and his jeans and tennis shoes look clean and new, too. And everything fits. “I kind of thought you hated me,” I blurt out suddenly.

“I don’t know you,” he mutters, looking down at his shoes. He seems so embarrassed to be talking to me, and I wonder if it’s just that he’s picked up on the things people say about me, or something else. Or I’m such a ragamuffin, he feels like he needs to make a quick escape lest anyone associate him with me.

I shift from foot to foot awkwardly, shoving my hands in my coat pockets. “I guess that’s better than hate,” I say, feeling a wry twist in my stomach.

We kind of fall into step silently, and I can feel his eyes glancing sideways at me, studying my clumsily-assembled winter wardrobe. We quickly make our way to the front loop where cars are lined up to pick up students. Because of Driver’s Ed, there’s no bus for me. Rose and Finn must still be back in the classroom listening to Poe’s wild stories, and I debate waiting for them to materialize in case one of their parents is willing to give me a ride so I don’t have to walk home in the cold.

Ben’s dad is already waiting in the unique vintage car I’d seen him in on that first day. I decide then that I should just go ahead and start walking. It’s not getting any warmer, and I’ll be a popsicle if I stand here waiting around for Finn and Rose. Regardless, I have no desire to risk looking like I’m fishing for a ride home. I don’t want favors from him or any boy, really. I’ve already learned the hard way that’s a rotten idea.

“See you Thursday, Ben.” I give him a little wave, but before I can put much distance between us, he says my name.

“Rey. Uh. Why did you laugh when you walked past me earlier?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his dad leaning forward over the steering wheel to get a better look at our interaction.

“Oh, uh, it was just a dumb joke,” I say, flustered. He looks wary, his expression guarded.

I continue, feeling the searing discomfort of my awkward social skills rising to the challenge. “Not anything bad. Just, you were talking to Hux and Gwen, and you’re all so tall, and I just had a vision of one of those carnival signs? Must be this tall to ride?”

His eyes bulged, and I don’t think I’d ever seen ears turn so red in my life. My heart stopped. I needed to stop hearing and using the word “ride” immediately. Banned. Banned word. “Uh, not like that. Like... Must be this tall to be in the cool kids’ club?”

I could keep adding words to this conversation, but that wasn’t going to help at all. “I told you it was dumb. Bye!”

At least the humiliation would keep me warm on the walk home. I can feel the sweat trickle down my spine as I hustle off towards the curb so I can time my run across the four lanes of traffic.

Distantly, I can hear the silver car’s door open, and then I hear the gruff voice of an older man asking some question, and Ben’s low reply of, “She’s nobody.”

I duck my head and wince.

+++

On Thursday, Finn and Rose give me good luck charms for my first drive with Ben and Hux--a lucky rabbit’s foot from Rose, and a four-leaf clover charm from Finn. I hug them both in gratitude, and they laugh when I tell them I think a crucifix and some holy water might be useful, too. Hux could very well be a vampire. He’s pale enough.

“Well, we’re all going to need luck. Driving with Poe yesterday was like Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. He’s, uh...” Rose drifts off, searching for a polite adjective.

“Confident. He’s really confident. And we survived!” Finn laughed. “Parnadee looked like she was going to have an aneurysm. I swear I heard her mutter that Poe needed Jesus.”

The bell rang, and we have to shift our attention to the front of the room to hear Mr. Kin begin his lecture on Otto von Bismark and real politik.

+++

I am the last to drive during our session, and I can tell by then that Parnadee is eager to have her day over. She is probably rethinking her life choices after agreeing to teach teenagers how to drive.

Hux goes first, all overblown confidence that melts the moment he pulls the golden brown Saturn out of the school parking lot and onto Ramsey Street. I can see how white his knuckles are, especially when Parnadee is trying to convince him to pick a lane.

“Now that you’ve selected a lane, Mr. Hux, STAY IN IT,” she bellows at one point. I try to stifle a laugh in the back seat. Ben is biting his lower lip in an effort to remain silent, his shoulders hunching slightly with silent mirth. He looks at me, and mouths, _“Is this how it ends?”_ whenever Hux inevitably fishtails across the traffic lanes.

Ben does much better. He doesn’t jerk the steering wheel so much, and his lane placement is less anxiety-inducing. He even bothers checking his mirrors.

When the car is parked again, I avoid making any eye contact as I pass him by to take my place in the driver’s seat. After checking my mirrors and making sure everyone is buckled, I pull the car out of park and turn onto the road. Smoothly. I’ve done this before on my early morning grocery runs, and I feel fairly confident about my ability to navigate traffic.

I sit a little straighter as I steer the car, passing through a green light. Parnadee asks me to change lanes, and I manage it without incident. However, I still have plans.

“Miss Sands, you can pick up the pace a little. You’re driving ten miles under the speed limit,” Parnadee said, giving a flick of her hand as if to spur me faster. I nod. I definitely tend towards caution in all things. I can’t afford a speeding ticket, let alone being caught driving without a license. And if that happens, my carefully constructed little world will crumble.

Hux snorts in the backseat. “Come on, Rey. We all know you’re fast.”

I grit my teeth in a fake smile, pretending not to have heard him, and I press the gas pedal a little harder. Parnadee nods approvingly as the car reaches the speed limit, choosing to ignore Hux’s incessant commentary. I breathe as I grow accustomed to the car’s new speed, and I see Stop sign ahead.

“Alright, start slowing, you want a soft stop,” she advises. I nod absently and do no such thing. I keep my foot steady on the gas. But about twenty feet out, when I see Hux leaning forward, his mouth opening to say something else, I stomp the brake.

The car jerks forward, and Hux’s forehead bounces against the back of my seat with a solid _thwunk_. Before he can complain, Parnadee glances back over her shoulder at him, her tone admonishing. “You should have been sitting back, and not hanging forward.”

And to me, she just smiles slyly. “A little gentler, next time, Miss Sands.”

+++

I can’t help but grin to myself on my walk home, replaying the moment in my mind. Petty, yes. Enjoyable, yes. Regrets, none. When Ben Solo and his father drive by while I’m walking home, I see him glance at me, flashing me a quick smile that changes his face from its usual sulky, intense expression to something altogether more boyish. I waggle my fingers at him and keep walking.

When I reach my neighborhood, my boots crunch over the gravel, and I weave through the debris and step over the broken glass in the circular drive. It’s already dark, and I’m hurrying to get home, my hands shoved in my coat pockets for warmth. When I climb the steps up to the front door of my trailer, I notice an envelope taped to it. I peel it off the door quickly and let myself in shivering and chafing my hands, dumping my backpack on the floor. Just like this morning, it’s only a little better inside the trainer than outside in the cold. I sink onto the chair I keep by the door so I can unlace my boots. I flip the envelope over in my hands, debating reading it now or later.

Curiosity wins over my desire to make dinner and start my homework. I pull the notice out of the envelope carefully and unfold the letter.

_Dear Resident,_

_We regret to inform you, that due to rising property taxes in Jakku, NC, we are forced to increase our lot rental fees. It is our understanding that you currently pay $150 a month for your lot, but as of March 1, the fee will be increasing to $200. This fee will be due on the first of the month._

_Again, our apologies for this change._

_Thanks,_

_Jakku Acres Mobile Home Community_

It takes me a moment to realize that I have stopped breathing, and I force myself to inhale a long, shaking breath. My hands grip the piece of paper until it crumples.

I only receive $437 a month in Social Security survivor benefits from my father, and this lot rental fee is more than a sizeable chunk. Nearly half now. My chest aches, and I close my eyes. Electric. Water. Can’t do without those. I need to have a phone. I try to think of anything else I can cut. I have to pay for auto insurance every month. It’s just liability insurance, but it still costs money, and it is legally required.

I’m starting to shake as I think of everything that must be paid.

I have to pay the annual registration fees for the trailer and the car. That’s non-negotiable.

Maz’s savings account has kept me afloat, but I know it’s starting to dwindle--there wasn’t much in it to begin with. She figured I could hold on for a year or two until I started a consistent job with a reasonable wage, rather than continuing to work under the table for a pittance from Mr. Wexley. So far, Maz’s account has covered the random expenses like the driver’s ed class and the monthly rental fee for the graphing calculator I need for my math classes.

I let the piece of paper flutter to the floor, and I stagger to my feet. My legs feel so heavy, and I’m still so cold from outside. Nothing warms me.

I feel a wave of regret-fueled nausea for not working this school year. I had a job until last summer, but after I couldn’t work at the surplus store anymore, I just… coasted. Facing all the ugliness at school has left me so drained, the thought of doing anything extra is impossible.

I cut corners where I can. Sometimes the Jakku Acres manager gives me odd jobs. I haven’t purchased any clothes this year, since last year’s still fit. I don’t even splurge on candy from the school vending machine. Every book I read comes from the library. Every bit of circuitry and electronics I play with comes from the Goodwill discard pile or the dumpster.

It isn’t enough.

In two weeks, I’ll need to start paying the higher fee. I feel myself waver on my feet, and I stumble to my bedroom. I know I need to eat something, and I need to do my homework, but first, I need to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1
> 
> Thanks to everyone who is reading this. I hope you're having as much fun reading as I am writing.


	4. put your foot on the brake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Ben and Rey begin to break the ice. Or rather, Ben stares at Rey like a lovelorn puppy until she notices. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s funny how one moment you don’t know someone exists, and then you start seeing them everywhere. It’s like that with Rey. After a couple of Driver’s Ed classes and just one driving session, I’m beginning to notice her in the smallest of glimpses around campus.

Jakku High School is huge, with nearly 2,000 students, and I don’t even have any regular classes with her, but she still pops up again and again--hopping off the bus in the morning, drinking from a water fountain, or lingering in the library, tapping away at a computer station keyboard.

The first time I notice her outside of Driver’s Ed is during P.E., when Coach Kestis sends me into the old gym to round up his box of stop watches so we can all time each other on the track. The gym is vibrating with music, and the girls’ P.E. class is apparently doing their line dancing unit. They’re all weaving and stepping in unison to Soul Asylum’s Runaway Train, which is surreal, but I guess their teacher is trying to make it more palatable. At least it’s not square dancing to aggressively retro country jamboree music, which is what my mother has told me she was forced to do in high school.

_Runaway train never going back_  
_Wrong way on a one way track_  
_Seems like I should be getting somewhere_  
_Somehow I'm neither here nor there_

Anyway, Rey is in the back row with Rose Tico, and the two are laughing hysterically as they grapevine and march and spin along as rows of girls move in unison. I'm pretty sure they're making up their own steps, because they are decidedly out of sync with the rest of the class. Rey’s hair is pulled back into three loose buns like a prim variant on a mohawk, and her face is flushed. She’s happier than I’ve ever seen her, and her smile is dazzling. 

I try to skulk along the perimeter of the gym, hugging the bleachers until I get to the gym offices, but I can’t help but sneak a glance at Rey, fascinated. This Rey is so different from the tense girl in the driver’s ed classroom or the gleefully crafty Rey who brake-checked Hux at the first opportunity during our driving session. From my vantage point along the bleachers, I can see that her tan legs are long and lean, and her tiny green PE uniform shorts cling to her shapely ass as she moves. I knew she was slim, dainty, even, from the picture Hux had sent, but in person, I’ve only ever seen her buried under thick layers of clothes.

By the time I’ve collect the stopwatch box from the office, the song is over, and the Macarena has started.

_When I dance they call me Macarena_  
_And the boys they say que soy buena_  
_They all want me_  
_They can't have me_  
_So they all come and dance beside me_

I can hear Rose’s silvery laughter, and when I glance their way again, Rey is wriggling along with the music, shaking her trim hips as she wraps her arms around herself, ironically seductive for all her goofing around. My cock twitches in my gym shorts and starts to get hard, and I stifle a groan, holding the box in front of myself. This is exactly the wrong moment for her to notice my presence, but that’s exactly when she does. I have a full-blown problem now, and I lurch as far away from the girls as fast as I possibly can before I am publicly embarrassed.

Her mouth makes a small _oh_ when she notices me, and she gives a little wave, blushing furiously at having been caught dancing so goofily, before turning away. She wriggles along to the music a little less enthusiastically after that, her movements awkward now where before they’d been charmingly spritely. Rose just claps her hand over her mouth and laughs, twirling near Rey, not altogether concerned with keeping the beat. Doesn’t seem their gym teacher cares as long as the girls are moving.

“Ooooooh, someone’s watching you wiggle, Rey!” Rose trills out, unable to contain her mirth. Rey looks like she might combust. And like she might potentially kill her friend.

As for me, I need to find my way to a bathroom so I can _calm down_.

+++

When I go to bed that night, I wrap my hand around my cock and picture her heart-shaped ass and the pretty blush on her face. I think about her pink lips, making that _Oh_ of surprise. With steady strokes from base to tip, I feel myself harden. I picture her messy hair and her slim body bouncing to the music. My hand moves faster, until my strokes are almost frantic, and I grunt as I feel my balls tighten before I blow my load, splattering hot cum all over my hand and wrist.

I roll onto my back and groan into the darkness. “Fuck.”

+++

Rey is the Jakku High ghost. I see glimpses of her disappearing down corridors, backpack jostling as she walks. Sometimes I see her leaving the cafeteria line with her lunch tray, and just as quickly, she fades into the lunchroom without a trace. 

The next time I see Rey for more than a few seconds is on a Monday. It’s lunch time, and I’m headed through the English department’s main hallway, wanting to go hide out from Hux and his incessant chatter until class starts, when I hear shouting and cheering coming from the Yearbook room. I slow to see what’s going on, and there’s a tiny gathering of yearbook staff collecting what seems to be hundreds of flat, square little magnets from the whiteboard and the floor.

The teacher has clearly fled, leaving the students to their own devices. Two bullseyes are drawn on the whiteboard, and Rose is standing on a step ladder, tallying the score of whatever game they’re playing.

“No fair! Finn plays baseball, so of course he can beat us all at this!” Rey complains good-naturedly. “I demand a rematch!”

Finn grins, piling a stack of little magnets in his hands. “Game on, peanut.”

Poe hands Rey, who is practically drowning in an oversized hoodie sweatshirt, a stack of magnets. He grins at her winningly, telling her, “Use your powers for good, Rey.” She smacks Poe’s arm lightly and makes her way to the back of the classroom with Finn. I realize I’m being a total creep, so I just step into the classroom and take a seat. I can’t remember the last time I sought anyone out, and I just shrug with a sheepish smile. They’re all staring at me confusedly.

“Do you mind having a spectator?” I ask. I grin broader as Rey shakes her head and Finn shrugs.

Rey’s so free here, the way she was with Rose during P.E. the other day. I wonder briefly just how pervasive the talk is about her, and how far the picture has spread through the student body. Rey usually seems wound tight, except with these friends.

Rey quirks an eyebrow as she looks at me, as if she can’t decide why I would want to be here for this, even as a smile begins to tug at the corners of her mouth.

“Do your best, for we have acquired ONE spectator!” Poe shouts enthusiastically. Rose has been grinning like she knows all the secrets of the universe the moment she recognized me. I gamely give a thumbs up to the valiant competitors.

“Good luck to you both,” I say, giving a bit of a flourish with my hands, and Poe laughs. He always seems ready to laugh, and Finn right along with him.

And the games begin. Rey and Finn peel a magnet from the top of their respective stacks, and then they proceed to whip each magnet like a ninja star at the white board. Rey is focused, holding up each magnet and eying the target like a sharpshooter.

Rey gets a bullseye, and she pumps her fist triumphantly, flashing a bright smile. However, Finn has more overall precision, and all his magnets end up on the target. He reigns victorious, pumping his arms over his head like Rocky Balboa.

When the bell rings, Rey grabs her tattered backpack from underneath one of the desks.

“I’ll see you in Driver’s Ed later, yeah?” she asks me, quirking a delicate eyebrow. And with a little wave of her hand she heads for the door. I think she might be trying to outrun me and make an escape, but I am puppy-eager, and I catch up to her in the hallway outside the classroom. I get the sense that she’s a little shy around me, rather than disturbed. At least, I really hope that’s the case. I’m prepared to die of embarrassment if I’m wrong. It would be an honorable death.

“You’re on the Yearbook staff?” I ask, shortening my steps. She’s not really that short, but I’m so tall that I’m always adjusting my pace to talk to people while walking. Sasquatch problems.

Rey blinks in surprise that I’ve pursued her, and I see something wary in her face that gives me pause.

“Oh, uh, no. Finn, Poe, and Rose are. I just hang out sometimes during lunch. I don’t really have time for stuff like that,” she says, looking up at me with her wide, hazel eyes. Her smile is gone, and I can see the tension return. I don’t know if it’s me in particular, or if she’s feeling uneasy without the support of her friends around her.

“Heavy course load?”

She nods in reply, then motions to the left. “I’ve gotta head this way. See you in class later?”

I’m starting to wonder what it would take for her to smile at me the way she smiles at her friends.

+++

Thursday, we’re in our third driving session. Hux’s confidence has increased, but he still fishtails every time he pulls the car out of the school parking lot, making Rey bite her lip as she restrains her laughter. She’s kinder to him than he would ever be to her.

I forget to use my blinker when changing lanes and someone honks at me while drinking, and Hux snorts, but I don’t hear anything from Rey. When I get it right the next time, however, she claps approvingly from the back seat.

Hux had been predictably shitty during the previous classroom session, asking Rey if she wanted to “back that thang up” with him after the class discussed backing around the corner. So when Rey takes the wheel, I know things are about to get interesting. I keep my face neutral, and I sit back securely, making sure my seatbelt is in place.

Rey’s drive is uneventful, and I start to think that perhaps I was wrong about the likelihood of Rey having plans for revenge, but then Parnadee instructs her to turn into a housing development near the school. It’s one of the newer developments, and it has tons of traffic circles, speedbumps, and pedestrian paths and plenty of signs encouraging people to slow down for children. Rey slows down more than necessarily, peering to make sure she’s not going to take out any kids running loose.

Hux hasn’t said anything rude yet, but I know he has to be brimming with something vile. Inevitably, when he leans forward, Rey presses the gas pedal, and the next thing I know, the car is sailing over a speedbump. She gets the speed just right, because the little golden brown Saturn is completely fucking airborne, and I can see flashes of trees and manicured shrubbery fly by the windows.

I hold tight as I feel my stomach clench in terror, but when the car lands, axles grinding, Hux bounces and hits his head on the roof of the car, swearing angrily.

Parnadee grabs the Oh Shit! handle and gasps, looking at Rey with horror, “MISS SANDS. You do NOT speed over speed bumps!”

Rey slows the car and turns onto the road that will take us all back to the school parking lot.

“Sorry. Sometimes I give in to temptation.” Her expression is bland, but when she looks in the rearview mirror, she catches my eye and the corner of her mouth quirks as if she wants to smile.

+++

It starts raining by the time we make our way to the pick-up loop in front of the main school building. Hux is in a pissy mood, and from the nasty glares he directs at Rey, it’s easy to see he’s blaming her. The truth is, he’s always one annoyance away from a tantrum. And I think _I’m_ tightly wound.

He mutters that he’ll hit me up on AIM later before stalking off to get in his dad’s car It’s then that my dad pulls up in the Falcon. Rey hasn’t paused to talk, and she’s already setting off on her usual course, when it occurs to me she doesn’t have an umbrella. Her gray coat is looking kind of soggy already, too.

“Rey. Rey! Wait,” I blurt out, and I can already feel my ears burning red.

She pauses, looking at me curiously, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Can we give you a ride?”

I can see her hesitate to answer. We haven’t really spoken too much. I motion for her to come closer. “’C’mon. It’s raining. You’re already soaked.”

She finally makes her decision, and pretty quickly she’s sliding into the backseat of the Falcon while I take shotgun next to my dad.

“Dad, do you mind giving Rey a ride home?”

“Sure, kid. Can do. Nice to meet you, Rey.”

My dad glances back at her and sticks a hand back between the seats to greet her. She shakes his hand briefly.

“Thanks. I hope it’s not too much trouble. I forgot my umbrella.”

“I’m retired. My only joy in life is driving teenagers around,” my dad replies with a crooked grin. I can see him glancing back at her, and then at me a couple of times, and I can already hear the gears and levels in his brain grinding into action as he determines every possible way he can embarrass me.

“What are you going to do when Ben finishes Driver’s Ed and gets his license?” she asks, smiling at him, her cheek dimpling.

“Follow him around to make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble, I suppose,” he jokes. “Where do you live?”

Rey explains, and my dad peers at her curiously. “Kind of a long walk, huh?”

She shrugs nonchalantly. “Only seems long when it’s raining.”

Dad makes sure everyone is buckled, and he heads onward to take Rey home.

“You kids have a good lesson? Learning how not to kill yourselves behind the wheel? Your instructor quit her job yet out of fear for her life?”

I laugh. “We’re fine, but Rey takes the speedbumps a little fast.”

“Just the one! Hux deserved that,” she says with energy, her eyes glinting. “He’s always so rude.”

My dad just snorts. Before silence descends, he starts asking her a battery of questions. I decide there’s something unhinged about retirees at that point, because he’s never been this gregarious in his whole life.

“You from Jakku originally, Rey? Or are your parents in the military?”

I can feel, rather than hear, the pause in her breathing at this question. But just as quickly, Rey’s voice is cheerfully replying.

“I’m from here. I live with my Aunt Maz. Great Aunt, actually.”

I can see my dad looking in the rearview mirror again, his brow furrowing for the briefest of seconds. I glance back at her, too. She proceeds to gamely endure more of his questions.

Yes, she likes school. No, she doesn’t play any sports. Yes, she can’t wait to have her license.

“I’m going to take the driving test the minute I turn sixteen,” she says. “And then I’m going to get a job. And I’ll be able to run all the errands for Maz, too. She doesn’t like to drive so much anymore.”

I realize then that’s probably what she meant about not having time for Yearbook. I glance back at her again. Rey’s pretty face is so earnest, but I can see her fingers are curling nervously into the sleeves of her old, lumpy coat. She doesn’t like the questions so much, after all.

Up ahead there’s a dated strip mall with cracked pavement in the parking lot, and some old shopping carts turned over on the sidewalks. One of the store fronts has plywood instead of a window. Rey motions with her hand slightly.

“Oh, you can drop me here. My neighborhood is behind these shops.”

My dad gives her a strange look, and she just laughs, replying “Zoning is weird in Jakku. There really are houses back there.”

When she hops out of the car, hauling her battered backpack over one shoulder, she leans back in rather than closing the door right away. “Thanks so much for the ride, Mr. Solo. See you at school, Ben.”

She smiles at me, little dimples forming on her cheeks, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.

That smile was just for me. Achievement unlocked.

When my dad pulls away from the curb after Rey waves goodbye, I don’t even mind when he starts asking me if I like her, if I’ve decided on when the wedding will be, or when I’d like for her to meet Mom. Well, the last two questions are too far even if I am basking in the sunshine-like glow of Rey’s smile, and I slump over in my seat, begging him to stop, my face in my hands. But dad’s happy, and I can’t help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. I was forced to line dance to Runaway Train and Macarena. Truth is stranger than fiction. But is anything stranger than fanfic? 
> 
> Runaway Train by Soul Asylum: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRtvqT_wMeY 
> 
> Macarena by Los Del Rio: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWaymcVmJ-A 
> 
> Yearbook nerds unite. I’ve thrown a few Herff Jones magnets in my day. They make excellent ninja stars (and so do 3.5" diskettes).
> 
> I'm on Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1


	5. shift into reverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Rose corners Rey and Ben into having their first date-like outing. Ben and Rey have dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Sasquatch incoming,” Finn murmurs into my ear, making me startle and look over my shoulder.

Ever since his dad gave me a ride home the other day, it seems like Ben Solo is lurking nearly everywhere I look. He lingers like an awkward shadow in his black sweaters and tees, trying to look nonchalant as he eases into the periphery of my existence, which is kind of impossible at his size. I wonder if he’s trying to sneak into my consciousness, as if he’s afraid to make any sudden moves, lest I bolt away like a frightened rabbit. Admittedly, it’s not a bad plan. Aside from Rose and Finn and sometimes Poe, I’m not altogether used to or comfortable around the other students at Jakku High.

So far, it’s working. I’m getting used to his presence when his long stride helps him catch up to me in the hallways between classes to ask me about Calculus homework or Driver’s Ed, or when I find him talking to Poe outside the yearbook room, ever-so-conveniently, when I’m supposed to meet Finn and Rose there. Sometimes he materializes at the lunch table, careful not to sit right next to me, but close enough that I find him sneaking glances my way as Poe and Finn chatter at him.

When he talks to me, I notice the way he hunches his shoulders to hide his height, and the nervous way he brushes his hair back from his face with his hand.

I can barely admit to myself how much I am starting to look forward to seeing his odd, angular face or his wonderfully toothy, earnest smile. I never know when he’ll materialize, but I’m always a little glad. Just a little, I tell myself. He’s just my nice classmate who didn’t let me walk home in the rain that one time, and who always needs to verify what day Mr. Tarkin’s next calculus test is scheduled. We both take calc, just different class periods.

Finn and Rose have been watching the proceedings with no small amount of amusement, even though they are gentle with their teasing.

I lift my hand and wave at Ben, who approaches our lunch table in the cafeteria. He’s already eaten with his usual cohort of Hux and Gwen, judging from his empty tray. He unexpectedly eases into the chair next to mine, glancing down at me cautiously.

“Hey,” I say, smiling slowly. And then I freeze, unsure of what else I could possibly say to him. I look to Rose for assistance, and for a split second, I think she’s going to let me twist in the wind.

“Bummer that there’s no Driver’s Ed this week,” Rose cuts in quickly, saving me. “But mid-winter break isn’t bad, either, I guess. You doing anything cool?”

We’re having a short week at Jakku High for mid-winter break, with no school Wednesday through Friday, but Driver’s Ed is canceled altogether—no class, no driving session. I know my mid-winter break is mostly going to involve asking Teedo for odd jobs around Jakku Acres and tons of homework.

Ben shakes his head. “No, just sticking around the house, I guess. Get caught up on movies.” He shifts slightly, looking down at me with interest.

“What about you? Fun plans?”

Ben’s eyes move over my face, warm like honey, and I realize with a jolt of astonishment that he’s eager to hear what I have to say. I’ve never talked to him about anything more exciting than limits and derivatives or traffic regulations. I’m not sure why he’d think I’d have any plans of note.

“Oh, uh, no. Just going to spend time with Aunt Maz, and do some studying,” I say quickly. I can feel Finn and Rose staring at me, wondering what demon has stolen my ability to sound like a normal teenager. Talking to them is so easy, but talking to Ben makes me want to hide under the table. They must think I’m completely hopeless.

Rose kicks me under the table, and I wince.

“Rey and I are going to see _The Wedding Singer_ on Friday,” Rose volunteers, and I look at her, lifting my eyebrows. She just gives me a smug smile. This is new information, and my eyes bulge. Also, I can’t afford to go to a movie, and I shake my head at her subtly, mouthing _no_. Rose, being Rose, cheerfully ignores me.

Finn grins, picking up on Rose’s intentions as he always does. Those two are ridiculously in sync. “I haven’t seen it yet. We should all go. Ben, you wanna go?”

Ben kind of glances at me and smiles sheepishly as he agrees, and I sort of want to die. I hate my friends so much.

+++

As I hoped, Teedo decides there is work for me around the trailer park, and I spend three days scrubbing, then painting the exterior of some of the vacant, dilapidated trailers. It’s hard work, and I’m exhausted to the core of my soul, and my back and shoulders ache fiercely, but I’m getting paid $5 an hour, and Teedo is even providing lunch. I know I’m being taken advantage of, but I need this money desperately. I’m sure that fact hasn’t escaped him after the rent hike.

The money is especially helpful since it’s already Friday, and I’ve got that movie to pay for now. I know Rose means well, and I know Finn is glad to do whatever she says, but I’m so flustered at the thought of…whatever this is… with Ben… Does he… like… me? I think maybe he does, and the thought’s so alarming, I spend a full twenty minutes pacing in my bedroom before I force myself to drink a glass of ice water and take some deep breaths with my face buried in my hands.

After what happened last summer, I’m less sure than ever how to behave or what to do. I don’t want _that_ to happen again. Am I supposed to dress up? What am I supposed to talk about? Why does he want to be anywhere near me? Didn’t he get the memo from Hux yet that I’m… I sigh. This isn’t what I want.

I decide then that I’m going to have to have words with Rose for putting me in this situation. I’m so overwhelmed, so out of my league here with a boy like Ben, my function can’t even brain.

Rose and her mom pick me up, and Rose is so thoroughly proud of herself I want to strangle her. She’s a little dismayed by my baggy, hooded sweatshirt and my ripped jeans, but she dives into the backseat with me, telling her mom that she needs to fix my face. I bat at her hands, but as always, Rose wins, and even though I patently refuse to wear mascara or blush, she makes me wear lip gloss, and she tugs my hair out of my buns and fluffs it around my face.

“Reeey, you’re killing me. Is this really how you dress for a date?”

It is when you don’t have that many clothes or just want to hide and disappear rather than potentially embarrass yourself.

“It’s _your_ date, Rose. He didn’t ask me out. You did. And I didn’t ask him out. You did. I barely know him,” I whisper to her heatedly.

Rose studies me, her bright, dark eyes reading me all-too-easily. “You’re afraid.”

“I am not!” I insist, my face suddenly burning. Fuck. Yes, I’m afraid. I’m terrified. There’s something about the way he looks at me with those soft, intelligent eyes that makes me think he could turn my world upside down.

Rose shakes her head. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that big, grumpy squatch only smiles when he’s around you. When you can actually manage to make eye contact with him and form a complete sentence, he looks like he’s been handed keys to a new car.”

“We just… he takes the same math as me.”

Well, that rates as one of the dumber things I’ve ever said, but Rose is too kind to point that out, and she hands me a pack of M&Ms to put in the kangaroo pocket of my sweatshirt to sneak into the theater. The candy is more than welcome, and I think I can maybe forgive her, at least a little, for forcing me out of my comfort zone.

Finn and Ben are already waiting for us inside the theater when we arrive, and we join them at the concession stand after buying our tickets. Ben’s dressed… well, he’s tried harder than I have, I realize with a pulse of anxiety in my stomach. He’s wearing a shirt with a collar and buttons and everything. It’s his signature black, but it’s not a tee shirt. But somehow, he doesn’t seem to notice that I’m dressed so poorly, and he just smiles at me while Finn and Rose give each other knowing looks.

“Um. Hey. You look nice,” he blurts out. I feel compassion for him as I see his own confidence evaporate, having lasted a grand total of thirty seconds. Ben shifts awkwardly on his feet, scratching at the back of his head uncertainly. “You want any popcorn?” he asks me. His eyes look hopeful, and he motions at the concessions.

I shake my head, “Oh, um, no thanks. I have candy. You can have some if you want.” My voice sounds squeaky, and I can practically hear Rose’s eyes rolling in her head.

After everyone has what they want, we find our seats in the theater. Rose grabs Finn’s hand and parks herself on one side of me, making a firm, but silent statement that I’m to stay put so Ben can side on my other side. After we sit awkwardly for a couple of minutes, Ben fidgeting with his Coke, and his mouth opening and closing a half dozen times as he thinks of something to say then immediately decides not to say it, I pull out the packet of M&Ms and offer it to Ben. He looks at me as if I’ve thrown him a life preserver, and he smiles as he reaches for it, but he stops when he sees something on my hands.

“What’s this?” he asks softly, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. I notice now that there are splotches of paint that hadn’t scrubbed off in the shower. His touch makes me shiver, it’s so delicate.

“Paint. I’ve been painting some empty trailers for my landlord. It’s hard to wash off, sometimes.”

“Sounds like hard work.”

I nod in agreement, and he studies my hand and curls his fingers around it. His hand is so large and warm around mine, my fingers are dwarfed.

The moment passes, but Ben continues to hold my hand, and I see his eyes flicker to my face every now and again, as if he’s afraid he’s pressing his luck with me.

When the lights fall in the theater and the movie begins, I find myself drifting, hazily watching the movie, only faintly aware of the warmth of his hand on mine, and then seemingly moments later, a large, gentle hand touching my shoulder.

“Rey… Rey… c’mon,” he says, and I blink groggily before jolting awake with a little gasp.

“You fell asleep.” He seems amused, and I hurriedly rub my face, hoping I haven’t been drooling all over him.

“Oh, noooo,” I sigh, embarrassed. “I didn’t—”

“No snoring, no drooling,” he laughs, and I see his eyes are a warm honey brown when he is laughing like this, at ease.

Rose and Finn are waiting for us, and Ben kindly helps me to my feet, even cupping my elbow as I waver, somehow unbalanced by my exhaustion. My steps are heavy after what seems to have been the best two-hour nap of my life.

“Sleepyhead!” Rose admonishes me, affectionately. “I finally get you to come see a movie, and you just pass out cold barely ten minutes in.”

“Sorry, Rose,” I say sheepishly. As we all part ways for the evening, I see Ben flash a grin at me, his eyes crinkled with amusement.

I swear I can still feel the warmth of his hand on mine, and I duck my head so he won’t see how flushed my face is.

+++

Back at school on Monday, I’m in the library during lunch, and I am my typing as rapidly as I can at the computer keyboard, as my eyes track what I’ve written on the pages of the spiral notebook I’ve got propped against the computer carrel’s divider. I’m hungry, but the library doesn’t allow food, and I’ve had to skip lunch to get this done. Getting this Othello essay typed and printed for Mrs. D’acy is the bigger priority. I can’t afford to let my grades slip. I can feel my stomach cramping, and I sigh.

I decide then that I’m just going to have to start coming to the library in the afternoon and walking home, because these 30-minute sessions aren’t enough to get everything done. And I really need to be eating lunch. I wish, not for the first time, that my teachers didn’t insist on typed essays, just because they say that’s what will be expected in college. Because of their rule about typed papers, I had to invest in a little packet of 3.5” floppy diskettes to save all my work.

I’m so focused on my writing, listening to the Goo Goo Dolls on the borrowed discman from Rose, that I don’t even notice Ben until he slumps into the chair next to my computer carrel, making me jump and delete a whole paragraph I’d just typed.

“Shit!”

I stare open-mouthed at my screen, then turn to glare at him.

“Press Control+Z.”

I do so, and the paragraph comes back, like magic. I guess he’s a little better versed than I am. I exhale a sigh of relief, and then I smack his arm for freaking me out.

“Whatcha doing?” he asks, leaning over to look at my screen.

“Homework. Essay due Friday. What are you doing here?” I pull the headphones off my head and loop them around my neck. The CD is about over, anyway.

He holds up a book on HTML coding and smiles. I can’t help but smile back at his doofy, crooked-toothed grin. When I glance up at the clock, I see it’s five minutes until the bell. I save my work and go to eject the diskette from the computer tower, and I notice Ben staring at the diskette pensively for a second, before looking back at me.

“Finn said you’d be here,” he starts, and I notice he suddenly looks a little anxious as his eyes flicker over my face. “Uh, my parents want to know if you can eat dinner with us Thursday night.”

“Oh, uh, after Driver’s Ed?”

Ben nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek, plush lips pressing together. I look away from him briefly and start printing some information I’d found on youth employment certificates. These certificates are required for minors to get decent jobs, and after my strenuous “break” of painting trailers, I know I need to figure out how to go about getting a proper job where I won’t work so hard I pass out the moment I am in a comfortable chair… or movie theater seat, next to Ben Solo.

It’s not like the rent is going to go down at Jakku Acres. Suddenly, eighteen seems like such a long way away that I feel a bone-weary exhaustion set in.

“I have to ask Maz because it’s a school night,” I say hesitantly, even though looking at his face, I feel such a pulse of longing, I just want to say yes without my usual excuses. I kept thinking about how gently he held my hand all weekend, to my embarrassment. How pathetic am I? And since the movie, Finn and Rose’s subtle and not-so-subtle pushing has forced me to admit that I do like him. Kind of. And that’s as much as I’m willing to admit. “I’m sure she’ll say yes. So, yes.” I flush.

I shouldn’t be this shy, I tell myself. Ben is so quiet and decent to me during Driver’s Ed, and always awkwardly friendly when he sees me around campus. He was nice enough to give me that ride home in the rain, and he didn’t even make fun of me for falling asleep while holding his hand and missing the whole movie last Friday. It doesn’t have to be like before. Ben seems… I don’t know. He seemed cold when I first met him, but I think he might just be shy. Like me.

Before I leave the library, after fumbling for loose change to pay for my print outs at the librarian’s desk, Ben touches my hand, his thick fingers brushing over my knuckles lightly, and he presses a piece of paper into my palm. His phone number.

“In case you need to, uh—” he says hesitantly, before shrugging and ducking out the library door.

+++

On Thursday, when Mr. Solo picks Ben and me up from school after the driving lesson, he is jovial and starts talking as soon as I slide into the backseat. I am wearing my best-fitting jeans and an olive-green polo shirt I found with the original tags still on it at Goodwill. I think it makes my eyes look greener. I’m even wearing some lip gloss I borrowed from Rose, who teased me mercilessly. I think she was proud of me, too, for accepting the invitation.

“Good to see you, kid. I hope you like spaghetti. I made a big pot of sauce and meatballs. As soon as Ben’s mom gets home, we can throw the garlic bread in the oven. I hope your aunt doesn’t mind us stealing you tonight?”

“She thinks it’s nice that you and Mrs. Solo invited me.”

I can see him glance sidelong at Ben, who proceeds to look fascinated by the radio dials, fidgeting to find a new station.

“Ah, well, we’re happy to have you. But I can’t take the credit. It was Ben’s idea.”

Ben’s head whips up, and I can feel the murderous tension as he glares at his father, the back of his neck turning scarlet. I’m sure his face is just as pink. Mr. Solo just grins in his rogueish way, and he makes his way through Jakku and onto Fort Windu.

I’ve been on Fort Windu a fair amount—childhood birthday parties, and more recently, visiting Finn and Rose. It never fails to astonish me how green and leafy and idyllic this world is compared to the Jakku I know. The Jakku that is just outside—strip clubs and bars and pawn shops form a gauntlet of sleaze, right up to the main gate. And then it’s another world, where everything is clean and orderly. I don’t know how these places can coexist.

And Ben’s house is even bigger than Rose’s or Finn’s. Finn’s dad is a Captain in the Finance Corps, and he lives with his parents in a townhome-style place. Rose’s dad is a Master Sergeant, and they have a nice brick home on the other side of post. But the Solo house looks like something out of a movie, at least from my limited perspective. It’s beige stucco with a red tile roof, and a large, formal front yard.

I gulp silently, and I try not to gawk.

“Hey, did Hux seem quiet to you today?” I ask as we all get out of the car, trying to distract myself. “I thought if he went that long without saying something rude, he’d die.”

Ben smirked. “He flunked his Calc test. His dad’s going to have a meltdown.”

“Ooooooh.” I try not to look like I’m enjoying it, and Ben laughs, his eyes lingering on my lips.  
  


+++

It’s only 15 minutes before Ben’s mother, _the_ Colonel Organa-Solo, makes it home. Ben and I are seated awkwardly next to each other at the kitchen island drinking Cokes when she finds us, and she grins broadly. She’s not exactly what I expected an Army Colonel to look like. I thought she’d be more like Gwen Phasma, tall and imposing, but instead, she’s a tiny little woman with a trim figure and some gray hair at her temples. Her eyes are the same warm brown as Ben’s, with the same expressiveness. She looks both maternal and like she doesn’t accept any nonsense.

She makes her way over to Ben and kisses him with a wet smacking sound that makes him groan. The Solos seem determined to make him squirm, and part of me delights to watch this tall, handsome boy at their mercy.

“Ugh, stop, Mom! Mom, this is Rey. She’s in my Driver’s Ed class.”

I hold out my hand to her, and she squeezes it warmly.

“Rey. I’ve heard so much about you. You’re all Ben talks about!”

She cuts her eyes sidelong at Ben, her eyes flickering gleefully. He returns her look of glee with total outrage, even though I can see the open affection, regardless.

“I do not! Please stop exaggerating,” he huffs, before looking at me with panic in his eyes. “I talk about you a totally normal amount. I swear.”

I’m torn between total embarrassment for his sake, as well as my own sake, but instead I just start laughing, and he looks even more miserable. I’ve felt so shy, but the Solo family is so terribly normal, at least to my eyes, that I find myself relaxing.

“So, constantly? That’s a normal amount?” I ask with faux innocence.

“I swear to god...” he mutters, but he is saved by his dad, who comes over to kiss his wife on the cheek affectionately and shoo her away.

“Leia, honey, go put on civvies, and I'll toast the garlic bread. Everything’s ready.”

+++

Dinner is wonderful, and Ben’s parents are so warm. He squirms under their gentle teasing, and I have an idea he’s going to demand they cease and desist as soon as I’m dropped at home. They’re nice to me, offering me second helpings of everything, which I’m eager to accept, and they even offer me some food to take home for Maz.

“So you’re from Jakku, Rey?” Ben’s mom asks me between bites of spaghetti. She’s studying my face with interest, as if she can read my character from the shape of each of my features.

“Yes, ma’am. I was born here, and I’ve been here ever since,” I reply.

She groans, “Please, don’t call me ma’am. I hear it all day. I’m just Ben’s mom in this house.”

Ben and his dad smile, and Ben comments with an ironic quirk of his eyebrow, “And outside this house, I’m just the Colonel’s son, so it’s about even.”

His mom shrugs, laughing. “Well, I can’t help that, sweetheart!”

His mom asks me a lot of the same questions his dad did, and I shift slightly uncomfortably, but I know these are basic questions. These are the things any normal teenager would be able to answer without concern, so I paint a smile on my face.

“Mmhm, that’s right, I live with my Aunt Maz. She’s basically raised me by herself. My parents died when I was little. So it’s just me and her,” I say lightly. I always try to compensate this awkward information by sounding as upbeat as possible. If it doesn’t bother me, it shouldn’t bother my audience. Except it does bother me. I can feel Ben tense slightly next to me, and when I glance sidelong at him, his eyes are compassionate, rather than pitying, and I feel a pulse of appreciation for him in my heart.

Mr. Solo tilts his head slightly, curiously. “Army?”

I nod. “My dad was, yes.” I chew on the inside of my lip. That’s about as much as I know. That, and he died in a training accident. I was less than a year old at the time, so I really don’t have any memories of him. I’ve never even seen a photograph.

Mrs. Solo exhales, and gives me an apologetic look when she realizes I’m slightly uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry, Rey. We’re asking a lot of questions, aren’t we? Why don’t we talk about something else? How was that movie you and Ben saw last week? With Adam Sandler? Was it funny?”

Ben just laughs, and I flush red. I’m not exactly in a position to answer that question. Ben is kind enough not to embarrass me by telling his parents that I’d slept through it like a teenaged Rip Van Winkle.

+++

Afterwards, they shoo us out of the kitchen I’d offered to wash the dishes, but that earned an odd look from his parents. Ben takes me into the living room, and we stiffly sit next to each other on the sofa. He’s so near, I can feel the warmth of his body radiating, and part of my brain tells me it would be a terrific idea to curl against him. I ignore that thought, and I curl my feet underneath me, turning to face him. I realize then we’ve never really talked much before, for more than a few seconds, anyway. We’ve just sort of existed awkwardly around each other. I try to think of something funny from Mr. Tarkin’s class I can share, since we kind of have that class in common, at least.

“I’m so sorry about my parents,” he blurts out. “They love to embarrass me, and I’m so mad at them right now. I thought they’d never stop grilling you.”

He leans closer to me, fingers flexing and clenching with distress. I can see two spots of color on his cheeks, and I marvel that he’s so worried

“No!” I flush, feeling too loud. “No, really, it’s okay. They were so nice to me. I don’t think they meant to grill me… I’m sorry my life is so, um, well, I guess it can make people feel weird? But I’m not embarrassed. It must be nice to have them as parents.”

He huffs. “I guess. But... I... I kind of wanted to make a good impression without them interfering too much. Which was probably a stupid thing to want at a dinner with my parents. Um… was it weird that I asked you to have dinner with my parents? On our first date?” He wrinkles his nose, suddenly looking mortified.

“You're lucky to have parents who care enough to embarrass you over a plate of spaghetti.” I smile wryly, and I lean my head against the back of the couch, looking up at him, admiring the unique lines of his face and the scattering of moles.

“So lucky,” he pouts, heaving a dramatic sigh.

My stomach twists at those two little words. I look down at my hands, which are fortunately paint-free this evening. I think of the people I never knew and the one I did know who’s no longer there. I’d give anything to have just one of them in my life. I try to keep my words light, but they weigh too much. “You are.”

Ben looks wounded, and I see him close his eyes. I think he’s mentally slapping himself because he emits a sound of pain.

“Fuck. I didn’t think. I’m sorry, Rey. I’m a spoiled jerk.”

This date is going terribly. If Rose were here, she would have smacked Ben upside the head and hauled me off to another room for a pep talk. Pep talk? She’d be shaking a finger in my face, telling me to look alive and try to have a conversation and maybe some eye contact and smile at him.

We sit there silently, our hands perilously close to one another on the couch but not touching.

Ben looks at me, and his forlorn expression is too much, so I try to smile at him.

“So what’s it like being an Army brat? Is it thoroughly glamorous?” I ask.

Ben just groans and puts his face in his hands. I giggle at his dramatics, and I see a frisson of energy ripple through him at my reaction.

“Yes, it’s soooo great. Guess how many schools I’ve attended. Guess.” He looks up at me, arching an eyebrow at me in a subtle challenge.

“Uuuh... six. Two elementary, two middle, and this is at least your second high school,” I guess.

“Ten. This is my tenth school, including pre-K and kindergarten.”

My jaw drops. It’s insane. I’ve been in Jakku my whole life, and I’ve been to exactly three schools: elementary, middle, and high. I suddenly get a sense of why he’s so silent and tends to lurk rather than engage. Why bother when everything is temporary?

In a strange way, I understand completely. Letting people close can be painful. People always leave. It’s worse than never having anyone at all. I shake off that line of thinking as quickly as possible, fixing my eyes on his face instead.

“Will you stay here? Will you finish at Jakku?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah... that’s why my mom requested this posting. It’s why my dad went ahead and decided to retire. She won’t have to deploy in her current role, and Dad’s going to stay home until I go to college. I’ll get to finish high school and maybe have a more normal experience. I caused a lot of trouble at the last duty station.”

“Like what?” I tilt my head at him, perplexed.

I’m having a hard time seeing Ben as a delinquent. He’s always quiet, and he behaves in class. Even if he seemed taciturn and cold that first day in Driver’s Ed, since then, he’s been polite, and his honey brown eyes are so expressive and warm.

I suppose he looks like he could do some damage if he were so inclined. He’s tall and broad, and his shoulders and arms look like they could rip a door off its hinges without much effort, but he usually just looks so humbly awkward in his body that I don’t perceive any threat in him. I don’t think I’ve even heard him raise his voice at anyone. But then again, I barely know him.

Ben’s voice is hesitant, uncertain. “Mmmh, like fighting and stuff. I broke some windows. Spray-painted some buildings on post. Um, I kind of broke a guy’s ribs. And arm.” He glances at my face, then away, as if afraid of my reaction.

My eyes widen in shock, and I find myself looking at his hands. Large, powerful hands. Beautiful hands. And maybe dangerous hands. Ben hurt people? These are the same hands that so gently held mine at the movie last week. It scarcely seems possible.

I shake my head. “But why? I… I don’t see it.”

He shrugs, not able to meet my eyes. “There was just stuff going on. Anyway, I’m doing better now. No more fights. I’ve done a lot of counselling with my parents. Learning to manage my ang-feelings.”

When Ben does glance at me, I see he looks nervous, as if he’s wondering if he’s said too much. I faintly wonder if he has, but I realize he’s kind of… he’s kind of put himself in my hands. And I see something vulnerable in his eyes, as if he’s certain he’ll be found wanting. But it strikes me that Ben… Ben is brave. He doesn’t need to tell me anything. Instead…

“Learning is good,” I say, and I reach to squeeze his hand. His fingers jump unexpectedly at my touch, and he takes a breath, lips pressing together. “I-I’m glad you came to Jakku.”

“Yeah?” He fumbles, curling his hand around mine.

“Yeah. You… you’re really nice. I can tell.” I groan inwardly. Nice? Ben must be wondering why I’d be any fun to have dinner with. No guy wants to be told he’s nice. At least, I don’t think so. I honestly couldn’t tell anyone what a guy wants. “Um, sorry.”

I duck my head, looking at where our hands are touching.

Ben suddenly looks amused, his mood lifting. “Sorry?”

“For calling you nice… I meant it, like, um, you’re not mean.” Alright, Rey, I tell myself. Just march out that door and never come back if you’re going to be this bad at making conversation with the cute boy who is trying so hard to impress you. I flop my head back against the couch, closing my eyes. This is agony. “Oh my god. I’m a _disaster_. I’m so sorry, Ben.”

I feel the couch shaking, and when I open my eyes, I see Ben shaking with silent laughter. His shoulders are vibrating, and he is gasping for air. It’s so mortifying, I pull my hand out of his and cup my hands over my face.

“Maybe I should go home,” I mumble. I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to look him in the eye ever again.

Ben takes a shaky breath, and he reaches for my hand. “No! Please… I mean, if you want to go home, we can take you. But, um, I’m laughing because I’m the disaster. Dinner with my parents? Immediately rude to you? And then I told you really heavy stuff that’s, um, I guess not first date material? I, uh. I suck at this.”

“Wha-what?” I’m a little taken aback, and I exhale a breathy laugh.

“Can we start over? Can I ask you normal, easy questions? M-maybe we got all the awkwardness out, and now we can just be ourselves.”

His expression is so earnest, all hopeful brown eyes, and soft lips, and endearingly big ears poking through shaggy hair. I give a tiny nod, and a slow smile spreads across his face. It’s amazing how his smile illuminates his face until it’s impossible to think you’ve ever seen anyone more charming.

“Okay…” I flush, looking up at him. “So… what do you like to do when you’re not at school?”

Still awkward. But back on safe ground.

But as we talk, trading questions and answers, we sit closer on the couch, holding hands, and I find myself smiling at Ben more, and talking more easily.

And the way Ben smiles at me? I kind of like it.

+++

Later that night, Ben walks me to my door while his dad waits from a polite distance in the car, giving us some privacy. It is dark out, and they insist it isn’t safe for me to be dropped in front of the strip mall. They aren’t necessarily wrong. Jakku has a notorious reputation for violent crimes, even during daylight hours. Maz always carried mace and a stun gun with her everywhere she went. She kept them in the basket on her walker, even towards the end. Maz was a tough, old bird.

Ben is nice enough not to comment on the derelict residences we drive past in the trailer park. He doesn’t even gawk at the half-burnt down trailer next to mine that a family is still clearly living in. The lights aren’t on at home, of course.

“Oh, it looks like Maz already went to bed.” I try to keep my words nonchalant, and I shrug before turning to unlock my front door. 

Unexpectedly, I feel his big hand cup my elbow, and he turns me slightly to face him. As I look up at him, eyes wide, I can see he’s barely breathing, and then his lips are crashing down against mine clumsily, roughly. I gasp slightly against his warm mouth, my free hand reaching to press against his chest instinctively.

My heart is racing from the shock. I… honestly hadn’t expected he would kiss me. I hadn’t expected his lips to be so warm and wet, or so aggressive.

He pulls back with a shaky breath, and I find I’m breathing hard. Ben looks uncertain, then a more resolute expression crosses his face, and he leans in again, this time slowly, gently. His hands waver slightly, one tentatively finding its way to my waist, the other on my shoulder, featherlight despite their size.

“Sorry…” His apology is breathed against my lips before just barely brushing his soft, plush lips against mine. I shiver, and this time I find myself slipping my arms around his waist, holding him close as I return the kiss, feeling a thrill of warmth coursing through my veins.

I realize then that Ben Solo is going to make me go back on every promise I made to myself last summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who am I kidding? This isn’t going to be 10 chapters. I kind of know where I’m going with all of this, but basically, I’m just vibing through various plot points and conversations. I’ll tie it all together. Eventually. 
> 
> I admit, I’m having a hard time with pacing—there are so many little scenes and interactions I can come up with, but I also want to keep things moving. Gotta find balance in the force, I suppose. 
> 
> 1998 Rose Tico absolutely stans The Goo Goo Dolls. It’s head canon. 
> 
> I’m endlessly amused that Ben told Rey his parents were inviting her to dinner. Super smooth, Rico Suave. 
> 
> I love the idea of Leia and Han gleefully embarrassing Ben at every turn. And now that I’m “of a certain age” I, too, can appreciate the absolute joy of watching a teenager squirm.
> 
> BTW, I am not trying to be negative about mobile homes. Rey’s community/neighborhood is based on one specific place I saw while living in a large Army town. My descriptions are not an exaggeration. 
> 
> Find me on Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1


	6. check your blind spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Ben works up the nerve to call Rey. They eat lunch together. Hux and Snap continue to be the worst people in the galaxy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kissed her. I smashed my stupid face into hers like a big oaf, and I’m positive she could tell I had no idea what I was doing. But she’d still kissed me back the second time, at least, when I was gentler about it, savoring her sweet, pink lips, and enjoying how her slim arms had looped around my waist. She tasted a little bit like spaghetti sauce and garlic bread, and she’d made the tiniest sound of pleasure, and I will carry that memory to my grave.

For once, my dad didn’t try to embarrass me by asking if I’d kissed her goodnight. I think he could tell, but he let me maintain my dignity.

I’d gone home and groaned into the corner of my elbow as I stroked my cock in the shower, slowly at first from base to tip, then faster until my hand felt frenzied. My whole body jerked and twitched as I came, splattering the shower tiles. I was still rock hard and desperate for her, panting as I tried to stand up straight, wiping the evidence of my handiwork from the tiles. So desperate for this hazel-eyed girl with the bright, sweet smile.

Rey Sands is going to be the death of me.

+++

On Sunday, I keep turning the piece of paper with her phone number over in my hands, again and again. I still haven’t worked up the nerve to call her since she gave it to me on Friday. She had surreptitiously slipped me her phone number as she passed me in the hall, giving me a shy glance, and I had to stop myself from grabbing her and pushing her against the wall of lockers and kissing her breathless. Instead, I just watched her sprint to catch up to Rose and Finn, her three little buns bobbing on her head, hands on her backpack straps. Rose and Finn glanced back at me, smiling knowingly.

I can’t believe this is really happening. She likes me back. And now I’m agonizing over what to say to her.

 _Hey, beautiful._ Ugh, that’s terrible.

 _Hi, Rey! How are you?_ These are words a human might speak.

 _Hello there!_ Nope. She’s not a woodland creature. That won’t do.

 _Bonjour, mon amour. Voulez vous de beurre?_ Is she even taking French? Also, why am I offering her butter? Get your shit together, Solo.

I stand up and pace around my room. My computer monitor flickers as the screensaver starts. Astronauts and planets and a spinning satellite. Yep, I’d like to be on the moon right now.

 ** _How did you decide to become an astronaut, Ben?_** _Well, you see, I was too chicken shit to call the pretty girl I like. I had no other choice but to become a space virgin._

I take a deep breath, and I snatch up the phone and I dial before I can change my mind. No, sir, I am not going to become a space virgin. I will at least try not to die an earth virgin.

She picks up on the 3rd ring, sounding breathless. “Hello?”

“Uh. H-hey, Rey. Ho-how are you?” I sink onto my bed, closing my eyes in despair. I am so, so bad at this.

“Ben!” She sounds... pleased? Inexplicably pleased. I haven’t earned this. “I’m alright. Just finishing my homework. How about you?”

“Oh, uh, I did most of my homework. I’ll have to finish later. Just chemistry left, but that’s pretty easy. I bagged groceries at the commissary all weekend. Pay day weekend, so lots of tips.” My parents were pleased when I told them I had filled out the paperwork to start bagging. The commissary is close enough to walk to, and I want to save every penny towards a car.

“Was it busy?”

“Pretty busy. When the storm passed through, I was stuck hauling groceries in the rain. I’ve got to get a plastic rain poncho or something.”

She made a sympathetic noise. “I almost got caught in the rain, too. Teedo--he’s my landlord--he said he’d pay me $5 an hour if I mowed all of my neighborhood, so I was busy doing that. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the grass stains out of my socks, but I still made some decent money.”

“Look at us making bank,” I joke. “You’re always working for that guy. What are you saving up for?”

“Oh, uh, a computer. I’m tired of sitting in the library typing my papers.”

“Cool! Are you thinking PC or Mac?”

“Dunno yet. It’s all theoretical until I have enough money, yeah?”

“Well, I can help you choose... someday. If you like. I know a little bit. I’m learning HTML right now, and I want to try to build a website from scratch. Something tells me everyone’s going to laugh at those Geocities sites in a few years.”

“You’re really into computers! Can you teach me more about them? I can type in Word and search Yahoo! but that’s all I know. Help me, Ben Solo. You’re my only hope!”

I smile against the receiver of the phone, and I curl up on my side getting more comfortable the longer we speak.

“I’d be glad to. Anytime.” I pause for a second. “What are you doing later? After you finish your homework?”

“I’ve got to help Maz make dinner... Then I’ll probably watch some TV if the signal is good. The rain might have knocked the antenna a bit, but I don’t feel like getting on the roof to check.”

“No cable?”

“Maz says TV rots your brain. We get what we need with the antenna. It’s X-Files night!”

I laugh at her enthusiasm, and I can’t help but grin a little wider. It’s my favorite show. “Oh yeah? You watch that?”

“The truth is out there, Ben. Do you watch?”

“I’m love it, but I missed a lot of episodes while living in Chandrila. They’re a season behind over there, so I don’t know exactly what’s going on. Catch me up?”

Rey needs no further encouragement, and I think at this moment I would die a happy earth virgin listening to her talk about UFO conspiracy theories.

+++

On Monday, it’s sunny and warm, and when I see Rey standing alone in the cafeteria line, I convince her to bring her lunch tray outside to sit with me at a picnic table. I’ve got some leftovers from home in my lunch bag. She gives me a singularly sweet smile as she sits down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. With the slightly warmer weather, she’s not buried under her old coat or swimming in one of her bulky sweatshirts, and I can see her elegant collar bones peeking from the neckline of her tee shirt.

“You don’t mind missing out on magnet throwing today with the yearbook crew?” I ask her, peering at her tray. The food looks completely questionable—rectangular pizza with a side of corn, a fruit cup with a soggy-looking cherry, and a little box of milk. By Jakku High School standards, this is a complete meal.

She laughs and shakes her head. “No. I’ve got to rest the arm, you know. Don’t want to overdo it.”

I grin at her. “Definitely not. It’s too early in the season for an injury.”

I watch, both fascinated and appalled as she picks up her pizza and takes a humongous bite. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s hungry, thinks it’s good, or just wants to consume it as quickly as possible to avoid having to taste it. After a moment, she sees me watching her, and she flushes a deep pink.

“Sorry. I’m eating like a goblin. I overslept, and I didn’t have time to get breakfast this morning before I got on the bus, and now I’m starving.”

“Is the pizza any good?” I ask, looking at it speculatively.

Rey stares at her tray as if she’s never considered this question in her life. She looks up at me, and she looks mystified.

“It’s here, and I’m hungry?” She sounds perplexed as to why any other consideration would matter.

“Logical,” I tell her. We eat companionably, and I split my cookie with her. We people watch for a while, the other students moving in streams in and out of the cafeteria. Few people look our way, and those that do eye us speculatively, their eyes flickering from Rey to me. It makes me feel distinctly uncomfortable.

“Oh, uh, I wanted to thank you again for dinner last week,” she says, tugging at the top of her milk carton to open it fully, fidgeting and fussing with it now that it’s empty. “It was really nice. Maz loved the spaghetti, by the way.”

My hand sneaks closer to hers, and I let my fingers brush against hers lightly. “My mom and dad really like you. They said you were nice.”

I realize in an awkward heartbeat that this might not be what she’s looking for, so I blurt out more word vomit to clarify, “And, uh, it was fun having you over. Do you want to hang out again this week? Even just to watch TV or something. At your house if that’s better?”

“I would like that, but, uh, I can’t really have people over at my house. Maz isn’t really up for company. But I don’t think she’d mind if I hung out with you again. I have to ask her first, though,” she says, curling her pinky finger around mine playfully.

“Maybe Thursday again? We don’t have to eat dinner with my parents--we could maybe go get a burger on post?”

She nods, but I see something hesitant in her eyes. I take her hand and squeeze it. “What is it?”

“Oh, just, I don’t know if I—"

Armitage Hux and Snap Wexley seem to materialize out of thin air, strolling by our picnic table with a studied casualness. Rey averts her eyes, her open, friendly face shuttering itself against what I can only assume she sees as an imminent attack. Hux saunters, over, and Snap lingers behind him a moment before stepping up, and leaning an arm on the table, crowding Rey.

“Slumming, Solo?” Hux asks with a curious tone, clearly unimpressed with my choice in lunch partner. I suppose he hasn’t missed the fact that I’ve started visiting other tables with more frequency.

I bristle at his question, and Rey pretends not to notice Hux at all, even though I see her shoulders hunch defensively. She seems determined to not give anyone anything to work with.

“Only when I hang out with you, Hux,” I retort. The pasty ginger just laughs in response, clearly enjoying my ire.

“You didn’t clean your plate, Sands,” Snap says idly, tapping her tray with his index finger. The corn had gone untouched. “Don’t offend the taxpayers, now, huh?”

 _Oh_. I look at her tray, and I realize she must be on the free lunch program. She _is_ hungry. I feel a sour pulse of regret for questioning her enthusiasm for the rectangular pizza.

Rey’s jaw tensed, and I can tell she was gritting her teeth. She is breathing slightly harder in an effort to stay calm. I know those signs. They’re the same as mine. My fingers twitch, I want to hit them so badly, but I take a steadying breath, just as Rey is doing. I’m trying to

“Are you done?” I finally ask them, trying to sound bored.

“For now,” Snap says in a bored voice. “See you in Driver’s Ed.”

As they leave, clearly impressed with themselves, I glare at their backs, hoping at least one of them comes to some misfortune. When I look back at Rey, I see she’s breathing more steadily, but the color in her face is blotchy.

Her eyes lift to meet mine, and while I see the flicker of unhappiness in their depths, I also see a steady strength.

“So, burgers on Thursday? Maybe we can take a walk at the park?” I ask her, touching her hand. I feel a flash of concern that she might turn me down, our lunch soured by those jerks.

“I’d like that,” she replies, and my anxiety flutters away, making me grin at her. When the lunch bell rings, I take her tray for her, reveling in the small, dimpled smile she gives.

I’m so pleased with the thought of eating hamburgers with her later this week, I barely notice how when she walks back into the main building that the other students remove themselves from her path, leaving her little figure to navigate the currents of student life alone.

+++

That night, I get online and log into AIM after finishing my homework. Driver’s Ed had been tedious with Hux questioning every answer Rey suggested for our group quiz until she put down her pencil and slid the paper over to me with a dark look.

AIM bloops, and a message from Hux displays.

**HuxSupreme** : Are you kiiiiiiidding me, Solo?

 **xXBenOSXx** : No?

 **HuxSupreme** : I sent you that picture as a **_warning_** , not an advertisement.

 **xXBenOSXx** : You wanted to warn me that she used to have a boyfriend?

 **HuxSupreme** : Boyfriend is a generous word. Is that what she’s telling you?

 **xXBenOSXx** : She doesn’t say anything at all.

 **HuxSupreme** : Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Yep, really concerned. So worried. Uh oh.

I log off AIM after that. I really can’t figure out their game. Rey had some kind of _interaction_? _relationship_? with that sentient turd, Snap. It ended, and now they seem content to paint her as a scarlet woman and mock her at every turn and encourage the entire fucking school to join them. Is Jakku that boring? And everything I know about Rey is so… not… not what they say. Rey, with her quiet ways and her work ethic, her tidy, modest clothes, and her quick laugh.

+++

After P.E. on Wednesday, I am chugging water desperately because I think I just sweated out half my bodyweight running sprints. Jakku’s weather is so strange to me. Heat wave in February, followed by another blast of winter, and now March is already getting muggy and hot. Even the shower doesn’t really help, and I still feel sticky as I get dressed. I’m afraid to think what it’s going to feel like this summer. My balls are not going to like this.

Snap Wexley saunters by and claps his hand against my shoulder in an overly familiar manner, a shit-eating grin on his face. Aside from Driver’s Ed and the episode at lunch, I haven’t really interacted too much with him, despite him being ever-present at Hux’s usual lunch table, which I’ve altogether stopped visiting. He seems eager to impress Hux, even though I can’t imagine why anyone would want to do that. It’s an oddball dynamic fueled by teenage testosterone, I guess.

I stare at him impassively, waiting for him to speak first.

“Hux tells me congrats are in order, dude. Hope you enjoy my sloppy seconds,” he says with a laugh. “Feel obligated to warn you, though. If you think you’re in for something great, she just lays there and squeaks.”

The kid sitting next to me snickers meanly, leaning over to tie his shoelaces. I avoid looking directly at Snap as I close the locker door and whip the padlock in my bag as hard as I can.

“Do you have a problem, Wexley?” I say, tightening my hands on the shoulder straps of my bookbag, needing something to focus on rather than smashing his stupid face. After Chandrila, I never wanted to feel myself break like that again. Never wanted to feel someone’s bones crack under my knuckles again. Not even Snap Wexley’s. Even if I am starting to feel like a little violence might do him some good. I stifle that thought.

“Not at all, Solo. Just making conversation now that we have something in common. Let me know if you want any tips. Or if you’d like to see any other pictures.”

I grunt in reply, and I wonder again why Rey puts up with this bullshit. She’s either afraid or has more patience than I can fathom. She quietly takes Hux’s verbal jabs, and Snap’s, and from the knowing looks around the locker room, I consider that these guys probably aren’t any kinder to her, even if they’re less blatant. These people are fucking animals. And Rey just endures it all. _Why_?

Poe looks uncomfortable, his mouth set in a grim line and his lively eyes unhappy, as he catches my eye and turns to leave. He’s an occasional visitor at the lunch table Rey frequents with Rose and Finn, always aggressively friendly and gregarious, and I decide then that maybe he might be better company to keep. He _has_ to be.

I ignore Snap’s laughter, even as he calls out after me: “Be sure to tell me if her pussy is still nice and tight, Solo! The guys who want to fuck her after you’re done will want to know, too!”

The boys in the locker room gasp with laughter as I trail out the door after Poe.

+++

Poe shoves his fists into his pockets as we walk. “They’ve been like this all year.”

He doesn’t look at me as we walk, and I notice his face is dour. He’s usually so animated, it’s almost shocking to see. Poe likes to tell wild stories and make people laugh. I hear he always takes a dare, always accepts a challenge, and always is gracious when bested in any competition. And I know he’s decent to Rey—I saw that in the Yearbook room a couple weeks ago.

“Why her?” I ask quietly. I lumber along next to him towards the math building.

“Shit if I know. Easy target, I guess. I only met her in 9th grade. She was kind of… reserved. Really kept to herself. Seemed sad, honestly, but she was nice enough to help my dumb ass in Physical Science. Then everything just went sideways.”

I arch an eyebrow at him, shoving my hands in my pockets as we walk. I shorten my stride a little, realizing I’m loping along without regard to his shorter height. “Sideways, how?”

“When school started up again last fall, there were all these wild rumors going around about her. Everyone just couldn’t get enough of it—they all thought it was hilarious. Quiet little thing like Rey, she was an easy target, and then when the—"

He breaks off, glancing up at me. I look at him and nod, acknowledging that I know what he’s about to say.

“The picture,” I finish for him. “I’ve, uh… I’ve seen it.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Poe pauses, then adds, looking distinctly uncomfortable, “I didn’t ask to see it, for the record. I play sports, and they think all jocks want to see stuff like that…”

“Does she know?” I ask, feeling a creeping horror. I have no idea how I could ever bring any of this up with her. I don’t want to be the one to see the dimples fade from her face as her smile disappears, fleeing into sadness.

“Well, people haven’t exactly been holding back with her. The meaner stuff has calmed down a lot, at least. I don’t know how far the picture has spread, and I don’t know if she knows, either. I thought they’d get tired of it by now,” he sighs. “I don’t know how to stop it. Not without doing more damage to Rey.”

His eyes are earnest, and I wonder for a moment if he likes her, too. Or maybe he’s just the kind of person who doesn’t like cruelty.

“Solo,” he says, his voice suddenly urgent, and he grabs my forearm. “Please tell me you’re going to be nice to her. Please.”

“I _only_ want to be nice to her,” I say softly. I mean it with all my heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geocities? Yes, I was there, Gandalf. 3,000 years ago. 
> 
> Did you really think I was going to get through this fic without talking about The X-Files. Wake up, sheeple! 
> 
> Fun fact: In 1998, the minimum wage in North Carolina was $5.15. 
> 
> Rectangular pizza with a side of corn. School lunches are wild. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my subtle Star Wars references in the fluff dialogue. Star Wars doesn’t exist in this AU, except in the dialogue of the characters. So no, we aren’t going to discuss the prequels coming out in 99. 
> 
> On a more serious note, I'd like to bring up that what's happening to Rey constitutes as cyber-bullying. In 1998, there weren't really laws on the books about cyber-bullying. It was all too new. I think it's significant here that Rey doesn't have internet access of her own and does not understand the scope of what is being perpetuated. While this fic won't go there, what Rey is experiencing has, in fact, led teenagers to commit suicide.  
> https://www.elon.edu/docs/e-web/academics/communications/research/vol3no1/04doneganejspring12.pdf
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed a little character building. I’m trying to flesh a few things out then hit my next plot points. Don’t worry. There’s an outline...ish. 
> 
> I'm on Twitter. Find me @junkyardjeditr1 if you dare.


	7. back out of the parking spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Some fluff. Dinner and conversation with Ben. Rey flicks the bean. Ben’s birthday, and a flashback to Maz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After our burger date, Ben starts to call me every night. After I finish my homework, anticipating him, I curl up on the couch with the phone. I try not to pick up on the first ring. I wait a ring or two, and _then_ I pick up, attempting to sound breezy and nonchalant. Usually, however, I find myself wincing at how exhilarated my voice sounds. I should be playing hard to get. I don’t want to seem _easy_.

It’s hard, though. I love to hear his low, rumbly voice over the telephone, and his mellow laugh. I can so easily picture his crooked smile and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he thinks I’m funny. I like so much about him-- I even like the way his hands curl around the steering wheel during our driving lessons.

But I’m terrified. Of so much. I wonder how much Ben knows. I think he must not know, or at least not everything, or he wouldn’t want me. He’d be disgusted. Everyone else seems to be. More than anything, I’m afraid he’ll figure out there is no Maz.

I wish Maz were here. She always knew what to say.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Hey, Rey.” His voice is soft. He’s so much more relaxed than our first call. “Are you still okay to come to dinner tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah. Maz doesn’t mind. I already did most of tomorrow’s assignments.”

“Can I ask you something?” I can hear the uncertainty in his voice, and I feel a kernel of anxiety in my stomach.

“Y-yeah. Sure.”

“Is it okay that I kissed you?”

I exhale shakily, and I can practically hear his panic through the phone with every second I don’t answer the question. He’d kissed me after our first dinner, and after he’d taken me to get a hamburger, we’d gone to the park and played on the swings. He’d kissed me, then, too, cupping my face in his big hands before gently pressing his lips to mine. Ever since that very first kiss when he’d practically head-butted me, he’s been so careful not to rush, and his slow, cautious kisses feel like magic.

“Oh--uh, yeah. Yes. It’sokay.” I’m stammering, and I can feel my face getting hot. I realize my words aren’t going to melt the stars with their poetry. “It was… it felt really nice. When you kissed me.”

“I wanted to kiss you again on Monday, but my dad was right there.”

I turn my face into the couch cushion, feeling that almost painful, writhing, awkward excitement of hearing that somebody wants to kiss you, smiling broadly, before turning back to the phone. “Will you kiss me tomorrow?”

He pauses, and when he speaks, I can hear the eagerness in his voice. “I want to.”

“I want you to, too.”

+++

Ben’s parents are better behaved at the second dinner, but they still smile too brightly, looking between Ben and me and then each other as if they’re sharing a particularly amusing inside joke. I guess Ben hasn’t really brought any girls home before, and they’ve clearly been anticipating this for years. Even if it makes Ben squirm and grumble, I can see how pleased they are.

Ben’s mom spoons seconds of the green beans, mashed potatoes, and pork tenderloin on my plate as soon as I’ve finished my first plateful, as if she can tell I’m still a little hungry. Her observant brown eyes, so similar to Ben’s in their color and shape, as well as their intelligence, don’t seem to miss any details as she watches me eat and talk, occasionally lingering on the slightly frayed sleeve of my green shirt. I tug on my sleeve self-consciously, trying to tuck in the frayed edge. I hadn’t noticed it this morning when getting dressed, or I would have worn something better.

His mom notices that I’ve noticed her lingering gaze, and she cuts in smoothly, “That’s a lovely color on you, Rey.”

I smile, and I’m about to thank her for the compliment, but Ben bumps his shoulder against mine companionably before reaching his long arm across the table to grab the little jar of Dijon mustard for his pork.

“Ben! You can ask for the mustard politely,” his mom admonishes him, smacking at his hand. He leans back, and she passes him the jar. I’m glad to be out from under her gaze.

Ah, but not so fast. She studies me again curiously, asking, “Ben says you’re doing a lot of odd jobs for your landlord?”

I nod, taking the mustard jar from Ben and setting it back down in front of his mother. “Just helping out a little for pocket money. He always has something that needs to be done, and I don’t have to worry about walking far or getting a ride.”

“Ben said you were painting trailers? That sounds like very hard work, especially by yourself like that.” Her voice holds a note of concern that is achingly kind, but I’m wary of that sort of interest. Concern leads to more questions.

I smile blithely, “Oh, Teedo was there. It was only for a few days, and I took lots of breaks. I could have gotten it done faster, but Maz makes sure I don’t overdo it. She’s looking out for me.”

I can feel Ben’s eyes on the side of my face, and I flush. He’s not likely to believe me on this, considering I was worn out enough to fall asleep at 7 p.m. the moment I was sitting in a dark theater next to him. That’s probably why he mentioned it to his mom. Shit. There’s something about the kind affection of the Solo family that makes me break out in a cold sweat of panic.

Fortunately, Ben changes the subject to Driver’s Ed, which is much safer terrain for me. We laughingly tell his parents about the terrifying movies like _Blood on the Pavement_ and _Red Asphalt_ that Parnadee keeps showing us, which are filled with gruesome auto accidents. Everyone in class just cringes and turns green during these viewings.

After having heard enough, Ben’s mom is shaking her head, motioning for us to stop talking.

“Why don’t you two get started on your homework? I think dinner is over” his mom says, wryly.

“Well, hold on a minute, now,” Ben’s dad says, holding up his hand. “I’ve been doing some thinking. Rey, are you getting much driving practice outside of class? I know your Aunt Maz has some health issues…”

I take a quick drink of water before replying. I am not technically supposed to, but I have been taking Maz’s ancient Ford Escort on grocery runs for years now, and after getting some confidence in Driver’s Ed, I’ve started taking the car out for some late-night drives, when there are fewer cars on the road. I try to justify it to myself saying that it is just good vehicle stewardship, making sure Maz’s car is running well. After all, more than anything, I need that car to function decently. 

“Oh, uh, yes, Mr. Solo. Maz lets me do the driving now when we go to the grocery store, even if she says I’m endangering her heart condition.”

“Watching your kid drive will finish someone off even without a heart condition, to be fair,” he replies. “These might be my famous last words, but why don’t you come with Ben and me sometime? I take him out on the weekend, and we could pick you up?”

I can see Ben smiling at me, so I agree. “I’d like that. Thank you, Mr. Solo!”

“There’s just one thing. You gotta stop calling me Mr. Solo. My name is Han.”

+++

Ben and I drag our backpacks into the living room to do homework while his parents clean up after dinner. I’d offered to do the dishes, but Ben’s mom had just squeezed my shoulder and told me to relax.

We sprawl on our stomachs on the floor with our books and notebooks and pens, our shoulders brushing, we are so close to one another. I see him glance over his shoulder to see if the coast is clear, and he leans down to touch his lips softly to mine. His eyes search my face afterward as if he’s checking to see if this is allowed. I flush pink under his gaze, and I pause before I tentatively kiss his cheek in response, making him smile broadly. I hold fast to my math textbook so he won’t see how my hands shake.

We complete our homework like that, occasionally trading chaste kisses as we untangle Calculus problems, journal for our English classes, and answer reading comprehension questions for history. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this contentedly cozy.

After his dad drives me back to Jakku Acres, Ben walks me to my front door, while Han waits in the Falcon at the community entrance.

I unlock the door, and when I turn back to Ben, he tugs me into his arms for a warm hug, and he kisses the top of my head. He feels so broad and solid against me that I indulge in resting my head against his chest for a moment. As he exhales, he suddenly seems so sad, that I don’t know what to say to him. I give him a little squeeze and a smile.

“Thanks for dinner, Ben. See you tomorrow at school?”

His eyes are still clouded with some thoughts I can’t read, and he gives me a slow, tender kiss before handing me the bag containing the leftovers his mother prepared for Maz and me. He’s lost in thought, but he suddenly shakes his head, startling himself out of whatever was on his mind.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you. It’s my birthday on Sunday... do you want to come over? I told my parents I wanted to order pizza for dinner. We could watch _The X-Files_ together?”

“That sounds like the best idea ever,” I tell him sincerely. I let myself into my trailer. I’d left the living room light on this time, and I call out, “Maz, I’m home!”

I glance back at Ben’s earnest face, whispering goodnight as I shut the door.

+++

When I crawl into my narrow twin bed that night, I pull all the pillows around me. I like to feel the pressure of the pillows around my body, or I have a hard time sleeping. I toss and turn, kicking off my blankets, only to pull them back over my body, unable to decide if I’m too hot or too cold. I’m both.

I tug one of the pillows into my arms, squeezing it tight, and I think of Ben’s arms around me. He’s so tall that he looks lanky, but I know from his hugs that his arms are firmly muscled. Strong. I sigh and imagine his hands, large and gentle, caressing my back as he holds me snug against his body. My thighs press together at the thought, and I press my face into the pillow I’m squeezing in my arms, feeling a flutter low in my stomach at the friction.

I slide a hand down the front of my pajama shorts, under my panties, and I circle the flat of my thumb over my sensitive clit. I sigh into my pillow as I rub against it, feeling a shiver of pleasure course low in my belly. My middle finger slides through the damp folds of my slit, collecting moisture, then dipping inside. I can feel the tight muscles squeeze around my finger, and I press the heel of my hand hard against my clit, grinding hard until my body tenses and I gasp in pleasure, feeling my inner muscles clench then spasm in shaking release. Thinking of Ben, all the while.

+++

I work hard all weekend. Teedo gives me hedge clippers, and I wander around Jakku Acres terrifying dogs and squirrels and small children as I attempt to tame the shrubbery around the perimeter and at the entrance to the community. After that, he sets me to scrubbing graffiti off his trailer. Apparently, someone didn’t like the lot rental hike and spray-painted a startlingly realistic cock and balls on the side of his place. It takes a lot of mineral spirits to make it look like a much blurrier cock and balls. I think I’m going to end up painting his trailer, from the looks of it.

It’s grueling work, but I’m determined to make myself useful. I’d earned $60 the prior weekend, so I’m hoping to make at least that much this weekend. I can make $60 stretch for two weeks of groceries if I need to. I don’t have much left in Maz’s checking account, and I no longer have room for emergency expenses.

I lost my job at Wexley Army Surplus last summer for _reasons,_ and until I can drive legally and maybe get an employment certificate somehow, I don’t have great options for employment, as I’d told the Solos. That much was true, at least. At least Teedo is game to give me odd jobs. He’ll certainly never do any of this himself, the lazy ass, and he won’t find anyone who will work for less money than I will, apparently.

My weekend improves when Han and Ben pick me up to practice driving, eat pizza, and watch _The X-Files_. I’ve dressed up a little, putting on some lip gloss Rose gave me and wearing a newer shirt, a dark gray top with short sleeves. It’s not flashy, but it doesn’t have any shabby edges, and it flatters my skinny frame, giving me the illusion of shape.

Ben kisses my cheek, right in front of his parents, who smile gleefully, when I give him a homemade birthday card, made of construction paper and covered in a ridiculous amount of glitter. Ben’s parents laugh when they see how much glitter ends up on Ben’s hands, then shirt, then face as he tries valiantly to get it off.

“You’re stuck sparkling for at least a week, probably,” I tell him, and he groans like he’s mortally wounded.

When he tries to wipe the glittery birthday card on my face in revenge, I swat at him with my hands, trying to protect myself.

“Rey, what are these scratches?” Ben’s mom exclaims, reaching to take my hands, turning them over to look at the backs and then the palms. I have some red scrapes and scratches, some slashing up my forearms, likely from wrestling with the shrubs I’d been pruning. To my eyes they don’t look that angry, but she seems concerned.

“I fought a shrubbery!” I laugh, telling her, “I was doing some pruning, and some of the bushes have terrible thorns. I’ve already cleaned these. It’s fine, honestly.”

She shakes her head, muttering, and she pulls me into the small downstairs bathroom where she keeps some first aid supplies. I give Ben a pleading look, but he throws up his hands as if to say that there’s nothing to be done once his mother has made up her mind.

Inside the bathroom, she points at the counter authoritatively and gives me a stern look. “Sit.”

I push myself up onto the counter, and I chew on my lip realizing I’m alone with the Colonel for the first time. As she fusses with the first aid kit, pulling out a disinfectant spray and analyzes the bandage situation.

“Rey, did Maz see these?”

I shake my head. “No. They’re just light scratches. I put some rubbing alcohol on them yesterday.”

She purses her lips and nods. “Well, let me spray a little more disinfectant on you, okay? You’ll heal faster if you keep at it. A pretty girl like you doesn’t need scars all over her arms.”

I let Ben’s mother tend to me, and even though I’m so afraid of her noticing too much, I let myself revel in being mothered. Just a little. I think the tight hug I give her when she’s done startles her.

+++

“Pizza’s here!” Han calls, and we all bound into the living room to gather around the coffee table and eagerly pull slices of pizza onto our paper plates. Han turns on the TV, and we watch some sports recaps on ESPN while we eat.

Afterward, Ben and I sit close on the couch. He tugs a plush, fleece blanket out of a large basket and pulls it across our shoulders, wrapping us together into a little burrito as we watch TV. Across the room, Leia’s feet are in Han’s lap, and he’s rubbing them absently as he stares at the TV, but his hands move with practiced skill. This is a man who has been glad to rub his wife’s feet for at least 20 years, I muse.

It’s all so cozy, and they all seem so content, I can’t but help think of the last birthday I had with Maz, and I rest my head on Ben’s shoulder. It wasn’t exactly the happy occasion today is, but it was good in its own way. I’d felt loved, at the very least. Being around Ben and his family make my heart ache.

_“Dear child,” she always sighed whenever I was sad or frustrated. It was my 14 th birthday, and I was both of those things. She was fading, and I just wasn’t ready. _

_“Dear child. I wish we had more time.” She struggled to sit up in her bed, and I crawled in next to her to help her and snuggle into her side._

_She reaches for my hands and clasps them tightly, lovingly. She points at the nightstand, and I know her signals well enough to go to it, and I open the drawer to find a thick binder._

_When I set it in front of her, she smiles at me, patting the binder with her withered hand._

_“Everything you need is right here, sweet girl. I called an an attorney last week to come here, and everything has been deeded to you. This house, the car, and my savings. I’ve already switched the utilities to your name,” she says quietly. “I live in your house now, Rey. No one can ever take these things from you. No matter what. You’re safe here.”_

_I bite my lip, but it doesn’t stop the hot tears from trickling down my cheeks. Maz had promised me that this would be my home for as long as I wanted. That she wouldn’t let me be taken from the little home where she had raised me as if I were her own child. Without Maz, it wouldn’t be much of a home, but it was better than the unknown. I had a terror of living among strangers and being taken from everything familiar. Maz and this trailer were everything I had ever known._

_“Thank you, Maz,” I whisper. We’d talked about this. She’d trained me thoroughly for the last year on how to do grown-up things. Paying bills. Paying taxes. Doing laundry. Basic auto maintenance._

_“You’re a strong girl, Rey. I know you can do this. Just remember what I’ve taught you. And when you say goodbye to me, look forward. The belonging you seek is ahead of you.”_

_“I love you, Maz,” I whisper, and I curl around her frail body sadly._

Ben seems to sense my quietly dolorous thoughts, and I feel his fingers brush against the back of my hand. “You okay?”

+++

Later, standing on my little porch yet again, Ben is kissing me, one large hand cupping my face while the other rests on my waist, fingers caressingly tentatively. I feel his lips part, and his tongue barely flickers against the seam of my lips.

“Did you have a good birthday?” I ask breathlessly, pulling away. He drops his hands reluctantly.

“The best birthday,” he replies, eyes shining.

My heart clenches, and so does my stomach. Ben Solo is trouble. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on Twitter. I keep myself amused. You can find me @junkyardjeditr1 
> 
> Too bad Ben’s X-Files birthday episode was Travelers. SO. BORING. At least Ben and Rey had the novelty of snuggling on the couch.


	8. cut your wheels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. A kernel of plot begins to form. Ben has a lot of feelings. Leia is a good mom. Rey is shifty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know why time seems to run at a sprint in the spring. I just want everything to slow down so I can savor every moment. Finally, there feels like a reason to let time stand still. A reason with almond-shaped hazel eyes.

As Rose has loudly declared, snorting with endless sounds of amusement, during lunch one day, as she watched me precariously holding Rey’s lunch tray in one hand and my own in the other, trailing behind Rey dutifully to find a seat at the lunch table we frequently shared with Finn, Poe, and her, I’ve become “twitterpated.”

Rey rolled her eyes at Rose for that one, and I just grunted, making Poe spit out his water and shout, “Sasquatch has spoken!”

I smack the back of his head lightly for that as I sit down. Rey’s friends are slowly sort of becoming my friends. If they’re concerned by a hulking grump with a soft spot for their little scavenger friend, they show no signs of concern.

My parents seem to think along the same lines as Rose, so when I bring Rey home one day to hang out and do homework, as I’m pulling her upstairs behind me to show her something on my computer, my dad materializes out of nowhere to declare my bedroom off-limits to young lady visitors. Rey turns a shade of purple previously not known to science from his insinuation, and we slink back downstairs and go out onto the patio to sit outside, instead.

I sit in the lounge chair next to Rey’s, as I appreciatively eye her slim figure, the canvas groaning under me. Rey gives the chair a sidelong glance.

“I don’t think that chair was designed with you in mind,” she comments and laughs. “Seems unstable.”

“Hmm. I should probably sit in your chair, then.”

“What? This is my chair! Keep your rickety chair,” she says, her eyebrows quirking in silent challenge.

“Technically, that’s my parents’ chair.”

I stand up, stretching my arms over my head, and I yawn and scratch the back of my head. I take a leisurely step closer to her, and then, quick as lightning, I turn and flop down on top of her, sitting in her lap. She squeals and gasps, and I think I’ve knocked the wind out of her, but then she’s wiggling and laughing underneath me. For a split second, I’d had the sudden fear of squashing her like a bug.

I grip the sides of the lounger, and she struggles valiantly, but cannot move me, and I just laugh maniacally. When she wraps her little arms around my middle and tries to rock me off her, I laugh harder. We laugh until we hear a metallic groaning noise, and the lounge chair collapses underneath us, its legs snapping under our combined weight and the force of our horseplay. We are knocked back hard onto the concrete patio. Luckily for me, Rey breaks my fall. Unluckily for Rey, she breaks my fall.

“Mmmffooof, I can’t breathe!” she gasps, and I roll off her quickly. She lies there, dazed for a second until she starts laughing, and I crawl over her to kiss her cheeks, smoothing her disheveled hair.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine, but I think this lounge chair is beyond repair.”

I look at the lounge chair, flattened underneath her body, and I decide her assessment is correct.

“I guess I’ll be buying new lounge chairs with my tip money from the commissary,” I sigh, and I flop down next to her, resting my hand casually on her hip. Very casually.

She looks down at my hand, watching with interest as I inch it under the hem of her tee shirt, letting my fingers brush against the smooth, taught skin of her belly. I lean in to kiss her, but I can hear my dad shouting from the back door, “You left your math books inside!” and I groan, pulling away.

Rey sits up, straightening her shirt.

“We better do that math, I guess,” she says, a grin on her face.

Yep. I’m twitterpated.

+++

When there are only nine weeks left in the school year, and one of those is spring break, every teacher suddenly announces new units, pathologically motivated to cram as much knowledge into us as possible, just when we’re relishing the longer, warmer days and thinking about summer. I’ve already scheduled my drive test for the week after Driver’s Ed completes, and I’m already thinking of what it will be like to take Rey out without my dad behind the steering wheel, or in the car at all, or in the house to make sure we’re behaving ourselves. I love my dad, but he’s turning into a total boner killer.

In a bold move, my US History teacher decides that our class can teach ourselves for the rest of the year, with assigned pairs taking on a chapter at a time. Of course, she assigns me to work with Hux. Ugh. He’s a reasonably solid student, Calculus malfunctions aside, at least. After last year, I can’t afford to fail any classes, let alone do poorly.

The moment he turns to me with his smirking, pasty face, however, I feel my hands clench and the dislike I’ve developed for him is acid in my soul. I can replay every nasty thing he’s said about Rey in my head, and it burns how not one of those times ended with him apologizing. Or crying and bloody. The way he deserves.

I silently do the counting exercise my counselor taught me. I count five things I can touch. I count five things I can see. I do not count the five things on his face I want to shatter with my fists.

“I don’t really have time to meet this week,” I tell him, before he can say a word. I know he’s offended that I don’t eat lunch at his table, having abandoned Jakku’s “high society” for “trailer trash” like Rey. _His_ words. “I’m leaving Friday for spring break.”

He shrugs. “Fine. Let's just read the chapter, and I’ll start an outline. Then we can figure the rest out when you get back.”

“Sounds good. Email me the outline, and I can add to it.”

When Hux turns away, I have a flash of an idea, the thrill of it almost startling in its intensity. I pretend to read my notes for the remaining ten minutes of class, but my mind is racing ahead, circling every possibility like an excited sheepdog. Spending time with Hux is an opportunity. And suddenly, I’m looking forward to the project.

+++

Late that night, I sit in front of my computer, knee bouncing, as I look for freeware online. I’ve got a hundred ideas, and I consider taking some of my coding books with me to Florida. I snort inwardly at that thought—yeah right, I’m going to code some miracle program that will solve Rey’s problems. I’ve seen too many hacker movies, obviously. I still need to do some research, see what exists, see what’s even feasible for me to do.

I can feel my emotions pinwheeling. I want to start planning now. There’s something here I can fix. I can feel it. But the longer I sit, the glow of the monitor the only light in my bedroom, the more frustrated I feel. I feel something sharp in the shadows of my brain. With a sudden movement, I shove out of my chair and stalk downstairs.

The fluorescent lights in the garage whine and flicker when I turn them on, but otherwise, all is silent. In the far corner, a freestanding punching bag awaits me, a gift from my dad for my birthday last year. I peel off my tee shirt and drop it on the floor. I’m already breathing hard, feeling the start of adrenaline as I anticipate hitting that bag.

I take a deep breath, wrap my hands in tape, and I set to work. My first punches are almost cautious as I test the give of the bag. It’s solid, and it has some flex. I haven’t used it much since moving to Jakku in December, and the bag feels stiffer than it did in Chandrila.

I find my pace quickly enough. With each strike, I think of a face I’d like to be hitting.

Hux.

 _Crack_.

Snap.

 _Slam_.

Dakk.

 _Whud_.

Snoke.

 _Thwack_. _Thwack_. _Thwack_.

My arms feel taut, muscles tight as I physically express my anger, and I fall into a rhythm that blurs my reality. I’m not thinking anymore, just breathing and striking with everything I have.

It only takes twenty minutes of slamming my fists into the punching bag for me to feel the sharp edges of my rage become dull again. I feel myself regain some control of my emotions, that spiraling darkness receding. Eventually, I’m sweaty and breathing hard, and I lean against the bag, resting my face on my arms. Fuck. I need to do this more often.

“Ben?”

I turn and see my mother standing in the doorway, wearing a thick bathrobe over her pajamas. She looks like she just woke up, and she’s blinking against the bright garage lights. I can see that she’s holding up a towel, and she motions for me to come back inside the house.

“Did I wake you?” I ask, mopping my face and throwing the towel around my neck.

Mom puts a glass of water in front of me, and she takes the stool next to mine at the kitchen island.

“No, sweetheart. I couldn’t sleep. I guess you couldn’t, either?” After so many years in the Army, mom often says her body doesn’t know what time zone it’s in.

“Runs in the family,” I say wryly.

“I haven’t seen you use the punching bag in a long time,” Mom leans forward, propping her chin in her hand as she looked over my face. She never misses anything. Not when she bothers to really look at someone. “Did something happen? Trouble with Rey?”

Just like her to come right to the point. I shift uncomfortably. “No, not exactly. I’m assigned to a history project with a person I don’t like. He’s kind of nasty to people. To Rey.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek. I really don’t want to tell my mother the kinds of things he says about her. I especially don’t want to tell her about how she’s treated at school. How do I tell her that the girl I like has naked pictures floating around and people openly mock her for being a slut?

“He was decent enough when I first started school here, showed me around and invited me to join his friends, but now all I can think about is breaking his face open,” I admit. I look down at my hands. I’ve been told that I need to be honest about my feelings. Even the ugly ones. I can take out my violence on a punching bag, but beyond that, I need to find the right words to express myself, as hard as it is.

“It’s okay to not like people, but you’re better off attacking your punching bag. You need to focus on peaceful solutions—even when you think they might not be deserved,” she says softly.

She brushes my hair back from my forehead affectionately, even though it’s sweaty. She’s told me plenty of times that if sweaty, gross men bothered her, she wouldn’t have joined the Army, let alone married my dad.

“But why should I just stand there and do nothing?”

Mom puts her hand on mine. “Being Rey’s friend isn’t nothing.”

I nod. I understand what she’s getting at. Let Rey fight her own battles. Be a point of strength. Focus on the good things I can do. But what if I can do something Rey can’t? What if she doesn’t understand how bad things really are? What if…

I cut off my what ifs and change the subject before I start spiraling again. I frown at my mother, and I say sulkily, “I still don’t see why you said we couldn’t bring Rey to Florida.”

“Ben. It’s a family trip. Your father and I selfishly want you all to ourselves. And as much as we like Rey, you’ve only known her a couple of months. She’ll be here when you get back.” She takes my now-empty water glass to the kitchen sink and refills it for me.

Her next words are cautious as she hands me the water glass once again, “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you run a risk of overwhelming yourself and Rey at the rate you’re going. Your father says you had her into in your room last week.

I glower at her back, finally speaking with a huffed voice. “We’re weren’t going to do anything wrong. I just wanted to show her something online. She doesn’t have a computer at home.”

“I didn’t say you were, sweetheart.” Her face is filled with compassion, and it makes me regret the resentment clawing at my insides.

“But I need you to think a little more about what Rey needs. I know you two like each other, but Rey’s life is a bit of a struggle. You have things she doesn’t have. I don’t know what support she really has at home to discuss these sorts of things.”

“What sorts of things?” I say, bullishly.

Mom sighs. “Boy and girl things, Ben. I know your father and I are open with you about these matters, but not everyone’s parents are. And if Rey’s guardian is a sickly old woman, she might very well be on her own when it comes to dating.”

I nod. My parents have asked me more than once what I know about Maz and her health, or if I’d ever even seen her. Or if Finn and Rose had ever mentioned her. They don’t think a young girl should be taking care of an elderly relative by herself. They think she looks thin and tired. They think she’s jumpy. I can’t in good faith say they’re wrong.

“I just... I really like her. And she likes me. I just want...” I admit. I don’t know what I want. Well, yes, I do. I want Rey.

Mom circles the island and gives me a tight hug. “Be gentle with your heart, Ben. And hers.”

+++

Even though there’s no Driver’s Ed this week, I still invite Rey to come for dinner on Thursday. It’ll be our last chance to see one another until the end of Spring Break, and my parents humor my request. Ever since my late-night chat with Mom, I’ve tried to be less… I don’t even know. I still feel like hovering over Rey and smashing open anyone’s face who even looks at her funny, but I’m trying to play it cooler. Somehow.

It’s hard when just last week during our driving session, she’d infuriated Hux so thoroughly, so _gleefully_.

_I try not to laugh as Hux storms out of the Driver’s Ed car on Thursday. His bright orange hair is mussed, and his angular shoulders are rigid with suppressed rage. His nostrils keep flaring as he resists having a total meltdown in front of Parnadee. Our instructor calmly leaves the car, flipping idly through sheets of paper on her clipboard._

_“See you all Monday.” She couldn’t sound more disinterested._

_When she disappears into the school building, Hux shouts from a distance._

_“You are a fucking menace!”_

_As glad as I am to watch Rey slam the brakes and make him smash his face against the seats at least once a week, I feel a coil of anxiety in my stomach. Would he want revenge? Would he keep up his campaign against her?_

_“Rey...” I start._

_“He’s already so nasty to me!” she says quickly, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I always wait until he says something awful. I can’t help it if he hasn’t made the connection yet.”_

_She has a point, and I grin, even as a shadow lingers at the back of my mind. I wonder if she knows about the picture, and I still can’t bring myself to ask her about it. As much as Rey seems to like me, based on her soft kisses and the way she holds my hand, sometimes I can only guess at what’s going on in her head._

After dinner with my parents, after they tell her _again_ that she doesn’t need to help with dishes, I grab a blanket from the basket in the living room and pull Rey outside with me. We spread it out on the lawn and lay down on our stomachs next to each other, enjoying the fresh air and watching the lightning bugs shimmer and flicker brilliantly against the night sky. Rey nudges her bare foot against my calf, and I press my cheek against her shoulder.

“I don’t want to go away with my parents tomorrow,” I sigh. I had surprised my parents by asking to go to Florida to watch a shuttle launch at Kennedy Space Center. They’re taking me out of school a day early, and mom is signing out on leave at midnight tonight. I'd wanted to go on this trip before Rey became the majority of every waking thought in my head.

“I think you’re going to have an amazing time.” She reaches for my hand and uses my fingers to tally her list as she speaks. She loves to touch my hands and play with my fingers, and I love to let her.

“You’ll get to see the historical displays. You’ll get to see the shuttle launch. You’ll get to eat astronaut ice cream. You’ll get to see alligators. You’ll get to play in the ocean. That’s five excellent things! I’d give anything to see a shuttle launch!”

“But I’d rather do the following: See Rey. Talk to Rey. Drive with Rey. Eat dinner with Rey. Kiss Rey.”

She laughs, and I pull her in close for a lingering kiss, enjoying the softness of her lips. My free hand rests on her back, and I brush my fingers over the delicate ridge of her spine through her light cotton shirt. She feels so small. She shivers slightly under my touch, even though the evening air is warm.

“Cold?” I ask, and she cuddles closer to me in answer.

“What are you going to do while I’m gone?” My lips brush against her temple as I ask my question, we’re so close. I sigh contentedly, just glad to be next to her. Even when I’m feeling turbulent or worried, her presence calms me. My parents have commented on it—less “lip” they say, less taciturn, less gloomy.

Rey shifts, turning to lay on her side, her arm cushioned underneath her head as she looks up at me. I shift to face her, just inches between us. I’d like to close that space and hold her body close, feeling her small breasts pressed to my chest, and pull her lean thigh over my hip and... and so much more. Instead, I hold her free hand.

“Get ahead on schoolwork. Maybe do some odd jobs for Teedo. Finn and Rose are staying in Jakku, so I might see them. Finn says he found an old circuit kit I can have, so that’ll be fun.” She smiles, and she reaches to card her fingers through my hair affectionately.

“I bet Maz will be glad to have you home for a week.”

She startles slightly, as if she had just remembered something important. “Oh, yeah. Of course. She’s really happy. I know she’s glad that I spend time with you, but I think she is a little lonely.”

“She wouldn’t be so lonely if you’d just let me come over to your house. We could eat dinner there, sometimes,” I point out, feeling a pulse of annoyance. “Doesn’t she want to meet your handsome boyfriend?”

Rey looks uncomfortable, and she struggles to meet my eyes. This isn’t the first time I’ve asked. I haven’t seen Maz, so I don’t know how sick she is. She seems to be as sick as Rey needs her be. I vaguely wonder if Maz is sicker than she lets on, of if she’s maybe just embarrassed by her trailer, even though it looks fine enough to me. I know not everyone lives in a big house.

“She’s sick... visitors take a lot of energy out of her. She has a hard time breathing these days.”

“I thought you said it was a heart condition.” I frown at her, reaching out to trace my hand down her arm, fingers dancing lightly from shoulder to wrist until I can interlace my fingers with her.

“It’s both. It’s a cardio-pulmonary thing,” she says, squeezing my hand, then pulling away and sitting up abruptly. “Anyway, I should get back to her. I shouldn’t leave her for so long.”

I sit up, putting my hand on her knee and squeezing lightly, enjoying the softness of her tan skin. “It’s still early.”

A flicker of grief crosses her face, and she shakes her head. “No, I really have been staying too late, and it’s not good for Maz. I’m all she has.”

I notice how her hands are gripping the blanket, knuckles white. I get the distinct sense that Rey is on the verge of running from me. It hurts. I look away from her, letting my hair fall in my face, hiding my eyes, as I get up.

“Well come on, then. Let’s get my dad.”

It’s an unusually quiet ride back to Jakku Acres, with my dad trying to fill the gaps in the conversation valiantly until he gives up. I can see his eyes flicking between me and her, and I wonder what he’s thinking. If he’s sorry we’re fighting right before vacation, or maybe relieved since he and mom think I’m too intense with her.

When I kiss her goodbye on the little porch at her front door, moths flickering around the porchlight, I’m surprised that she squeezes her arms around me as if she can’t bear to let go.

“See you when you get back from Florida?” Her voice is small.

“I can't wait.” And as frustrated as I am, it’s true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was tough to write, especially after I’ve been cranking out a chapter a day for the last week. My muse has been an overcaffeinated little monkey, and now she’s plain tuckered out. 
> 
> With this chapter, I felt like I had to do some heavy lifting with the character work to start getting things into place for some of the bigger plot points and major reveals. So sorry about the construction dust! I promise I’m building to something. Brace yourselves. Angst is coming. Also, SMUT. I promise dirty stuff in the next chapter, y’all. I know why we’re all here. 
> 
> It probably doesn’t matter one damn bit to the story, but I am trying to keep things somewhat accurate to the time period. There was, in fact, a shuttle launch out of Kennedy Space Center in April of 1998: https://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/shuttle/shuttlemissions/archives/sts-90.html 
> 
> The dates don’t precisely match up, but close enough. I absolutely see Ben and Rey as a couple of space nerds who’d get a kick out of watching a launch. Science! 
> 
> I am on Twitter, lazing about: @junkyardjeditr1


	9. ease into traffic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Rey searches the Want Ads. Ben calls Rey from Florida. Fun at the pool with Finn, Rose, and Poe. A sexy phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fingers are turning black from the newsprint as I turn through each page of the classified ads in the newspaper. People are selling cars, puppies, boats, and lawn furniture. Others are offering lawn care and handyman services. There are ads for septic tank purges and auto repair. There are even personal ads, pleading for love so plaintively that it’s painful to see. This is all the business of life, and it’s simultaneously mundane and fascinating.

What I’m looking for, however, are the want ads. I want a job.

I’ve been watching the numbers in the bank account tick down, and I need to get my shit together. I spent most of March quietly freaking out. I’ve been good about saving money on food by making sure to get my free lunch every day at school, and the food from the Solos has helped. I haven’t bought anything unnecessary, not even a Coke from the vending machine. The electric bill for March wasn’t bad, either, so that helped counterbalance the rent hike.

However, I know that when summer gets here, I’m screwed. The air conditioner runs up the bill in a big way, but it gets too hot here to simply tough it out. If it’s 95 degrees outside, the trailer will be well over 100 degrees on the inside. I’m not looking to die of heat stroke, so I have no choice but to run the AC.

Between what’s left of Maz’s savings, the monthly social security check I get for my father’s death benefits, and the odd jobs I do for Teedo, I can make it through July. But I need a job. More significantly, I need a job that pays more than $5.15 an hour. I’m going to need better car insurance, and I know Maz’s car, _my car_ , is old and will need some work. I might only be fifteen, but I know it just takes one emergency to end up on the street. I’ve seen it happen to more than one family in this trailer park. If I have to live in Maz’s car, I don’t know what I’ll do. I really can’t afford to fail.

Ah. Here we go. Waitress wanted. Maid wanted. Neither of those jobs seems to pay much more than minimum wage. I take a red pen and X through them. Retail seems little better, and I purse my lips studying each ad carefully. 

Oh. Oh. Here’s something interesting. Electronics and appliance repair. Qualified applicants only. I don’t think they’re talking about me, but... I can fix anything. _Anything_. They just don’t know they’re talking about me. And it pays $10 an hour. That’s low for that kind of work, so there must be a catch. I hum thoughtfully, considering.

_“Maz! Lookit what I found!” I run up to where she’s standing, talking to one of our neighbors, a hand on her cane. I'm wielding a heavy box full of rattling parts and thick instruction booklets. I’m breathing hard from carrying the box so far in the heat._

_“What’s this, child?” she says affectionately, peering through her thick glasses. “Beginner’s electronic circuit kit...?”_

_I nod emphatically, little buns bobbing on the back of my head. “There’s a big rummage sale out by the shops. A lady couldn’t find her glasses, and I helped her find them, so she said I could have whatever I wanted off her table.”_

_There always seemed to be a rummage sale on in Jakku. With so many military families coming and going, people were always offloading their belongings. It was a scavenger’s paradise._

_“And you wanted this?” Maz seems surprised by my choice, but she takes it in stride and smiles._

_“I liked the box. It says I can learn to build things and how wires and stuff work.” I can’t explain why I’m so intrigued by this kit. The box is colorful, and the children pictured are smiling. The circuit boards look kind of complicated, but if that little blonde boy on the box can do this, why not me?_

_“I bet you can, dear child. You’re a smart girl. Smarter than the kids on the box, I bet.”_

_Turns out, I was pretty good. I’d built everything in the kit in two days. And now I had a little cottage industry, fixing VCRs and radios around Jakku Acres. The work was infrequent, but it was more fun than dealing with Teedo’s backbreaking chores._

After a moment’s contemplation, I circle the ad for the job at Plutt’s Repair Center cheerfully and continue looking through the ads. That’s one potential option.

+++

The phone rings that evening, waking me up.

I’d eaten some ramen noodles and a packet of microwaved veggies for dinner then promptly fallen asleep on the lumpy, old couch. It had been a long day—Teedo had me pick up trash all over Jakku Acres, and I’d startled (and been startled by) more than one rattlesnake. He’d just laughed when I told him he needed to keep the grass cut, or someone was going to lose a kid or a dog to snakebite. _Why don’t you do it, then?_ he’d asked, blowing cigarette smoke in my face.

I fumble with the receiver, knocking the phone on the floor.

“Shit,” I mutter, picking it up and holding it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Doing okay, Rey?” Ben laughed.

I’m surprised to hear from him, and a smile of delight crept over my face. I had figured it would be next Sunday before I heard anything. It was a family trip, and this would be a long-distance call. I don’t think anyone had ever called me long-distance, before.

“Yeah, sorry. I was sleeping and knocked over the phone. How are you? Are you having fun?” I haven’t seen him in three days, and I already miss him. I still feel guilty from our last dinner, even though I try to force that feeling down. I remind myself I’m doing what I have to do.

“What are you doing sleeping? It’s only 7 p.m.! I didn’t know you were such an old lady,” he teases. “I hope you’re not working too hard?”

“Not too hard. Just picking up trash today. I think I got too much sun, and that always zaps me. I need to remember a hat next time so I don’t get so freckled.”

“But I like your freckles.” His voice takes on a softer note with a teasing lilt to it.

I laugh awkwardly, not entirely sure how to respond to his tone. “What about you? Using sunscreen? SPF 3000 for you, I bet?” I’m sure his computer tan is super compatible with Florida sunshine.

“SPF 70, I’ll have you know. We’re having a pretty good time so far. Mom’s always chasing me around with the sunscreen, and Dad just pretends not to hear us argue about it. She thinks I need to be greasier than a Butterball turkey.”

“I can picture it,” I laugh. “What about the launch? It’s tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, day launch tomorrow while we’re at the Space Center. I’ve got my camera, and I’ll take some pictures for you.” He sounds so excited, and I can’t blame him. The shuttles always make me think of all the things in life that are possible. I like possibilities.

I smile, picturing his crooked smile and the constellation of freckles and moles on his face. “I can’t wait. Ben? Is it okay for you to be calling me like this? It’s long distance...”

“It’s fine. My parents said I could while they stepped out to have a drink. I’m having fun and all, but I really miss you,” he says, his voice quiet.

I whisper into the receiver, even though there’s no one to hear me but him. “I miss you, too. I’m sorry about the other night... things are just hard right now. If you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of a mess, I tag on that last sentence, trying to be funny. He just huffs a little laugh.

I find a little more courage, emboldened by the phone. “I really do like you, though. I like you so much.”

I close my eyes, waiting for his reply.

“You know you can tell me anything, Rey. _Anything_. I like you so much, too.”

Tears prick at my eyes, and my chest aches. I cup my hand over my face so he doesn’t hear me sniffle.

We chat for a few minutes more, then say goodnight. It’s going to be such a long week without him.

+++

The next day, Rose’s mom picks me up to bring me on post. Rose and Finn and a few other Army brats I know from school are gathering at the big recreation pool on Fort Windu. Rose squeals and grabs my hand, tugging me into the ladies’ changing rooms so we can put on our swimsuits and join everyone else on the deck and pick some lounge chairs.

Finn is grinning so wide it hurts my cheeks just to see it, clearly amused by whatever it is Poe is telling him. Poe waves and returns to their conversation. He’s as animated as ever. He's been around Jakku since the start of our Freshman year, but until he ended up in Rose and Finn’s group in Driver’s Ed, we never really talked much. I remember helping him puzzle out the different equations in Physical Science, but mostly we’ve been in different classes, different circles. Though I suppose I’ve always been my own little dot, rather than a member of a circle. Until now. Sophomore year has been strange, that way.

“Reeeey, just take the towel off! No one’s looking at you. Work on your tan! Flaunt it if you got it, Rey!” Rose is a tornado of enthusiasm, and I collapse next to her on a double-wide cushioned lounger, snatching the can of Pringles from her.

“I haven’t got anything to flaunt,” I laugh, shoving some chips into my mouth.

“Sure about that, Sands?” Gwen scoffs, walking behind me and grabbing a chair of her own. I don’t know why she’s lingering near us until I see her eyes rest on Poe, and her expression softens. That looks like a match made in hell to me, but that’s none of my business. I still feel like someone should warn him before she clubs him over the head and drags him back to her cave.

Rose looks back at the tall girl, quirking an eyebrow. She just mouths at me silently, _“I don’t get her...”_

I shrug, bottling my unease for another day. Right now, I just want to be as young as everyone else, even if it’s only on the surface. I don’t feel like hiding today. I peel out of my towel, revealing my green one-piece bathing suit. It’s old, but it’s still in decent shape. When I kick off my-flips after standing, Rose pulls a camera out of her pool bag and takes my picture, startling me.

“For the yearbook’s Spring Break spread!” she exclaims. She’s always on the hunt for the perfect candid, but I’m not exactly a fan of that. Never was, really. And certainly not now.

But of course I see no guile in her sweet face, and I smile weakly. I know she means well. “Please don’t, Rose. I don’t want to be in my bathing suit in the yearbook.”

Gwen huffs a sarcastic laugh behind us, stretching out. She’s put on a broad-brimmed hat and heart-shaped sunglasses. I wonder why she’s here until I see a few more faces from Jakku High filter in—Kaydel and Mitaka and Kare. They pile around her, chatting happily.

Ignoring Gwen, I call out to the boys, “Who wants to lose to me at chicken fighting?”

“Oh, me! I want to lose at chicken fighting!” Poe shouts. He jumps into the pool. “C’mon, Rose! You have to be tops, because you’re too short and we’ll drown you.”

“Reeeeey, what have you done?” she groans, giving me a playful shove before we jump in. Finn plunges in behind us, hoisting me up for the battle against Poe and Rose.

“Are you so sure about winning, Rey?” Poe challenges me. “Rosie here knows martial arts. She can kill a man with a flick of her wrist.”

Rose snorts and rolls her eyes. If my memory is correct, she told me she took a year of Tae Kwon Do when she was in elementary school, and that is the extent of her training.

I flex my arms for comedic effect. There’s nothing intimidating about my noodly arms. “I didn’t come here to lose, Dameron.”

+++

Ben calls again on Wednesday. I’m curled on the couch in a ratty old tee shirt and shorts with Maz’s crocheted blanket wrapped around me. I was eating some leftover stir-fry Rose’s mom had sent home with me after clucking that I looked too thin. She asked about Maz, and I just smiled and assured her she was getting better all the time. For that, she added a container of soup to the bag, telling me to make sure Maz ate every drop.

“Mmph. Hey, Ben. Sorry, I’m just finishing dinner,” I say, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder, shoveling the last few bites of veggies, chicken, and rice into my mouth. Mrs. Tico is a fantastic cook, and I know I’ll die happy if this is the last thing I ever eat.

He laughs. “Eat up. I’ll catch you up while you chew.”

He describes the shuttle launch with a tone of awe, and I feel almost as if I’m there, standing next to him watching the golden fire as the shuttle streaks up into the sky, casting off its fuel tanks as it leaves Earth’s atmosphere. I hope his pictures turn out well.

“...and now we’re in St. Augustine. We looked at the old fort and went to the beach. My mom dragged us all over to look at the old colonial buildings.”

He sounds relaxed and happy. “We’re gonna start driving back up towards Jakku tomorrow. Mom wants to stop in Savannah along the way, since none of us have ever been.”

“It all sounds like so much fun,” I say sincerely. “I want to see all the pictures and live vicariously.”

“Yeah?”

“I demand to be entertained.” I’m grinning into the phone again.

“I promise to always do my best,” he teases. “What about you? What have you been doing?”

“Same as ever. Working for Teedo. Do you have any idea how disgusting people are? You would not believe the thinks I find around this trailer park!” I make a retching noise to elegantly illustrate my disgust. “But I did go on post to join Finn, Rose, and Poe at the pool. There were a lot of people from school there. Finn gave me that circuit I told you about. Hours of scientific fun await me.”

“That’s good! I was worried you’d just work the whole time. Was it fun?”

“I destroyed everyone at chicken fighting. They think I’m weak because I’m scrawny, but the jokes on them,” I laugh malevolently. “You should have seen the look on Gwen’s face as she hit the water. I’ll be reliving that memory for the rest of my life.”

Ben’s chuckle is low, and I can picture the crinkle of his eyes in my head. I can hear him shift, the rustling of blankets and sheets and his pillow. I can suddenly picture him shirtless, a sheet drawn up to his waist, his hair tousled just so. I feel my breath catch at this mental picture, and it all rapidly seems rather intimate, and I hesitate, trying to make my voice seem nonchalant, light-hearted.

“Are you talking to me from your bed, Ben Solo?”

There’s a pause. “Mmhmm. My parents are out having a romantic dinner tonight, so I’m just relaxing.”

“Are you... comfortable?” I bite the inside of my cheek, mortified at the suggestive question, but wanting very much to hear the answer, and I sink deeper into the couch. I feel an unusual charge between us, and I wonder at it. Is it because the phone boils our interaction down to just our voices, our words? It feels intimate, but somehow safer. All I know in this moment is that just the sound of his voice is making me shiver.

“Mmhm.” He seems content to let me dangle, and I suppose it’s only fair. He’s done so much leading already.

“Are you in bed, tucked in like a good girl?” he asks softly, and I think I can hear the hotel bed creak again as he changes position.

“I’m on the couch, snuggling into a blanket,” I whisper, my voice filled with a need I scarcely want to acknowledge, but cannot ignore. “I should probably lay down and relax.”

“What do you usually do to relax, Rey?” He sounds so curious, but his tone is slightly hungry. With his next question, his voice lowers subtly, and his words are slower and more suggestive. “Would you like me to help you relax?”

I scoot to lay down on the couch, feeling my breath catch. I’ve started something here, and I feel a thrum of excitement.

“Mmmhmm,” I murmur. “I’d really like your help, Ben. C-can you touch me?”

“Maybe I could kiss your neck a little? Taste your skin, and nibble on you. You’re so sweet, Rey. I want to eat you.”

I close my eyes. “That sounds so good. I love the way your lips feel. Would you like if I pulled off your shirt and kissed your chest? I want to give you little love bites.”

He groans slightly, but not in an unhappy way. “That would feel so good, Rey.”

He pauses again, his voice hesitant, “Would you mind if I took your shirt off? I want to lick and suck your little pink nipples.”

I shiver as I exhale. “Please, Ben... it feels so nice when you suck on my nipples.” I can feel my breathing change, and something low in abdomen seems to clench. “Can you bite them a little? Not too hard...”

Ben seems to change position again, and his voice is lower. I hear movement.

“Oh god... you taste so good. I want to touch more of you, Rey... would you like it if I slipped my hand into your panties? I’d love to stroke you down there... are you wet for me?” His breathing is growing more ragged, as is mine.

I slide my hand into my pajama shorts and into my panties. “I’m so wet, Ben. It feels so nice when you touch me,” I whisper.

I haven’t really said these things out loud before, and I feel so intensely shy and aroused that I bury my face in my blanket, even though there’s no one to see. “It’s so good, Ben. Can I be good for you? Can I touch your cock?”

I hear another ragged breath from the phone, Ben’s breaths getting heavier. The sounds from his end are increasingly rhythmic, and I realize he’s stroking himself. I think of his hard cock in his big hand, and I circle my clit with my fingers, panting slightly into the receiver, spreading my wetness, then rubbing harder, creating shivers deep inside. My tight inner muscles clench again, seeking something that isn’t there.

“Rey... it’s so good when you stroke my cock like that. Your hand is so soft.” He breathes raggedly, and I can hear skin on skin. Ben suddenly grunts and gasps, and he’s silent for a moment, before speaking again, his voice shaky. “That was amazing... I came so hard for you, Rey. So hard. Can you come for me?”

“Yes, I’m almost there.” I gasp a little. “Your fingers are so much thicker than mine.”

I cannot believe the things I’m saying, but I no longer care. I rock against the palm of my hand, and I gently push a finger inside my tight channel, wishing it were his. It’s so wet, I decide to slip another finger inside as well, moaning against the stretch.

Ben whispers heatedly, his deep voice rumbly in my ear. “You're so tight, Rey. I’m pushing a finger inside of you, and I can’t believe it. You’re so wet and so soft. Just let me stroke you... is it good? Do you like that?”

I do. I do like that. I gasp and cry out as the wave that’s been building so slowly crashes over me. My whole body shudders, and when I flop back against the couch, I press a hand to my chest, trying to catch my breath. My legs are trembling.

“Oh my god,” I exhale, a shaky laugh escaping me.

Ben laughs in return, his voice equally shaky.

I can’t think of a thing to say.

“When are you coming back?” I finally ask. The question hangs in the air for a second, and then I hear Ben try to stifle a laugh, and I laugh helplessly along with him.

“Not soon enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They like each other SO MUCH, y’all. I’m dying/crying over this. 
> 
> Frankly, I couldn’t see why anyone would drive past St. Augustine, FL, without stopping, so I made sure the Solo family followed my personal protocol. 
> 
> As far as Savannah, it makes a solid 2-3 day trip. While I'm not going to write this into the story, I’ve already head canon-ed that Leia and Han make Ben take one of those horrible trolley tours where a guy dressed as Forrest Gump gets on the trolley. 
> 
> Gee, I wonder why Rey gets nervous when people take her picture! 
> 
> Gwen kind of sucks right now, but I have plans for her to improve. 
> 
> Phone Sex! Hopefully they can make eye contact without spontaneously combusting when they reunite in Jakku. 
> 
> I’m on Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1


	10. check your lane placement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. A happy reunion. Rey reveals one of her secrets. The author remembers to move the plot forward, just a tiny little bit. Fun on AIM with Hux and Poe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We don’t get home until late Saturday night, and I can feel my whole being just thrum with the need to see Rey. It’s been more than a week, and I have no goal more important than kissing her until her cheeks turn sweetly pink.

Sunday morning, I go for a run, and then I’m rattling around the kitchen, waiting for a reasonable time to call Rey. I’ve sped through as much homework as I can, when my dad stumbles downstairs in search of coffee. I eagerly pour him a cup; I’d made a pot of coffee, wanting something to bribe him with. He takes one look at my face and groans, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“I cannot wait for you to have your license,” he sighs. “I’m gonna take one wild guess. You want me to go get Rey?”

I grin. “If you don’t mind.”

“Your homework done?”

“Mostly. I’ll finish it up with Rey.”

He sips his coffee and makes a sound of approval. “Give me a couple hours, kid. Your old man is exhausted from touring every historical landmark between here and Cocoa Beach. Your mother’s need for information… god help us all.”

I grab an apple from the fruit bowl, and I bound from the kitchen, ignoring my dad’s grumbling about teenagers, hormones, surpluses of energy, and life as a personal chauffeur.

+++

Rey bounds down the steps from her trailer after shouting a loud goodbye to Maz, and she flashes my dad and me a broad smile as she slides into the backseat, dragging her battered, old backpack with her. She looks tanner from time out in the sun, and I can see that her freckles have grown more distinct across the bridge of her nose.

“Thank you for coming to get me, Mr. Solo—I mean, Han.”

Dad gives her a little smile as he reverses the car and pulls around the main driving loop within the Jakku Acres community. “Sure, kid. Good to see you. Hope you had a good Spring Break?”

“Really good! I got so much done and watched _The Price is Right_ nearly every day,” she says with a giggle. “Plinko is the stuuuuupidest game, don’t you think?”

“Kid, I might be retired, but I haven’t gotten there yet.”

“Still getting caught up on _The Young & The Restless_?” I snark, and my dad just shouts _HEY_! as if deeply and thoroughly insulted. Rey laughs gleefully in the back seat.

+++

Dinner won’t be for hours yet, so after Rey says hello to my mom, who surprises her with a tight hug that Rey leans into happily, I take her hand and tug her into the family room with me. Dad has grumbled off to the garage to pop open the Falcon’s hood and stare at it pensively, beer in hand. His vintage car runs well, but he always thinks it could run better. There’s always some modification that’ll be just the thing.

“I missed you,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around Rey’s slim waist and slotting my mouth against hers for a hungry kiss. She feels so precious in my arms, especially after a week away, and I thrill to hold her, enjoying how she returns the kiss, lips warmly seeking mine, tasting me eagerly. Our heated phone call seems to have ignited something in her. And in me.

My hands slip to her hips, and I feel my fingers press tighter into soft swell of flesh above her firm little ass. I feel her tremble slightly, and I caress her back with my hands.

She sighs into the kiss, then eventually breaks away. Her smile is both tender and uncertain. I smooth a hand over her cheek and curl my fingers around the back of her neck as I lean in to give her another kiss, gentler this time.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she whispers back. “I missed you, too.”

I know I can’t keep touching her like this. My parents are in the house, and I definitely don’t want an audience for the things I want to say and do to Rey. _With_ Rey.

This thing between us is so new, and I know she’s skittish, and I’ve never touched any girl but Rey, and seeing her makes me ache to caress every inch of her. Her long, coltish legs are so enticing in her denim cut-off shorts, and her simple, white cotton sleeveless top makes her tan glow brighter. I can even see the faint outline of her thin bra hugging her pretty, little tits. Fuck. If I don’t stop, I’m going to embarrass myself. I can feel my cock twitch just looking at her.

I sink into the large recliner, and I pull her into it with me. The recliner is big enough for us both, but it necessitates that we snuggle into one another like puzzle pieces so we can fit comfortably. I groan in pleasure as she innocently wriggles into place, my cock growing hard. I try to shift so it’s less noticeable and not pressing against her.

“Was it a good trip?” she asks after a moment.

“I think you know what the best part was,” I say in a low, husky tone, my voice teasing.

“The shuttle launch?” Her voice is innocent, her hazel eyes wide as she looks up at my face.

I squeeze her waist hard, grinning as she squeals and squirms, pulling at my hands.

“Ben! Don’t!” Her laughter rings out like little bells, and I take advantage of the angle she presents to me, and I lean in to nip at her neck.

She gasps, and she whispers, red-faced, “W-we need to be careful. Your parents might catch us.”

I shake my head, a broad grin stretching across my face. “Dad’s busy with the Falcon. Mom’s got calls to make from her office. I think we’re safe for a little while…”

Hazel eyes, shining with gold and green flecks of color, grow wide as she sees the hungry look on my face. I see desire reflected in hers, as well, and I shift to trace my tongue across the seam of her lips until she parts them for me, letting me taste her as I kiss her deeply. I move slightly and press myself into her hip, letting her feel how rigid I am through my shorts.

I hear a stuttering sigh from her, and a little shiver course through her body. I pull away from our kiss, and I bite her earlobe, whispering, “See what you do to me? I just can’t stop thinking about that phone call.”

“I... I still can’t believe we did that,” she says, looking a little chagrined, but I can see the heat in her eyes.

“It was really sexy. You were so sexy, Rey. God, I liked it, hearing you talk like that.” Her eyes widen, and I take pleasure in the spots of color on her cheeks. I take her small hand and press it against my erection, trying to stifle my groan as I push into her hand. I kiss her neck sloppily, panting with the effort it takes not to pull her to the floor and pin her under me.

She breathes shakily, as if she’s both excited and afraid, as I rub myself against her hand, nipping and kissing at her lips.

“Please, Rey… touch my cock,” I whisper into her mouth. My hips buck eagerly, making her jump, and I laugh and kiss her again. It isn’t going to take me long to come, I realize, I’m so excited just to feel her hand on me.

But as she gets closer, I hear the door leading into the garage slam closed and heavy footsteps in the kitchen. “You kids want ice cream?” my dad shouts, and I can hear the freezer door open.

Rey pulls her hand back as if scalded, lurching away from me as far as she can in the recliner. I’m sweaty and red-faced, and I stagger out of the chair to run to the downstairs bathroom, my hand pressed against my groin. I’m painfully hard at this point, and there’s only one solution.

I hear Rey call back to my dad, her voice high and sweet and a little shaky. “Oh, uh, no thank you, Mr. Solo! It’s too close to dinner, and I don’t want to spoil my appetite.”

I’m frustrated but also trying not to laugh at my misfortune as I lock myself in the bathroom. I pull my cock out of my boxer shorts, and with a groan, I stroke myself hard and fast. I breath hard, pumping furiously until I feel myself shudder and twitch, cumming hard all over my hand.

“Fuck,” I mutter, looking up at my sweaty face in the bathroom mirror. I am the dictionary definition of sexual frustration.

+++

After I clean up and I’m looking a little less _excited_ , I return to the family room, where Rey has curled herself onto the loveseat. She is eyeing the large recliner as if she’s mentally living somewhere between regret over the interruption and embarrassment that we’d gotten so heated so quickly. I’m sheepish, and I sit next to her, this time leaving room for Jesus, as some of the churchy kids at school say.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away” I mumble, and she nods, blushing, extending her leg to poke my leg with a dainty little foot. “Are you… okay?”

She nods again, looking at her hands, and I reach across the loveseat to take them into mine, so she’ll look at me. “I said you could tell me anything, Rey,” my voice is soft. “I meant it.”

“I’m just… I was… I think we need to be careful, you know?” Her eyes search my face, looking for something, though I don’t know what exactly. For all her reputation, Rey’s so earnest and uncertain, even if only minutes before, she’d felt like pure electricity in my arms.

I scoot closer to her on the loveseat, and she leans her shoulder against mine companionably. I brush the hair back from her face. “I just can’t stop thinking about you,” I whisper, kissing her cheek.

Rey curls her fingers through mine, and she brings my hand up to kiss each knuckle. It’s then that I remember what my mother said before Spring Break. About not overwhelming Rey--being gentle with her. And to think, my mom doesn’t even know half of what this girl faces every day at school. Just what every boy wants, to have his mother’s voice in his head when he’s recovering from jerking off after grinding too exuberantly against his girlfriend’s hand in the family room. But it’s there, and I listen, if reluctantly.

“It’s okay if we don’t do more,” I start hesitantly. “We don’t have to do anything, Rey... I mean, I _want_ to... but we don’t... we don’t _have_ to, you know?”

She looks at me, something unreadable in her eyes as she studies my face. I think I see tenderness and guilt and something a little forlorn. She doesn’t speak right away, and she kisses my cheek.

“I... I want to. Do things. With you. But I need to go slow,” she whispers. Her sentences are choppy, and I know she’s trying so hard right now to be honest. I don’t interrupt her, and I just stroke my fingers over the back of her hand.

“I don’t want to seem like a… like a hypocrite. I know you’ve heard the nasty things people say about me. I guess some of them are true…”

I look down at her, meeting her eyes, and I nod. I don’t want to lie to her. I’ve heard things. More than she knows.

“I’m not... I’m not a virgin.” She sounds embarrassed. As if maybe she'll be a little less in my eyes. “It was a stupid mistake.”

Her voice is shaky, but she bravely meets my eyes, hazel green, glittering golden. “I don’t want to be stupid again.”

There are so many questions I want to ask her, but I don’t want to pry, because she seems so unhappy about it. Another part of me wants to demand she tell me everything as I feel a jolt of jealousy.

I just hug her tight and kiss the side of her head. More than anything, I’m angry that she should feel self-conscious and embarrassed. That she’s been hurt. I have to quash the desire to find the culprit who made her feel this and personally rearrange his dumb face.

My voice is firm when I finally respond. “You’re not stupid. I don’t care, Rey. And you don’t have to do _anything_ just because of _that_.”

She buries her face in the curve of my neck, and I feel her shudder, then sag against me, as if some tension has been released. I caress her back lightly, rubbing circles into the nape of her neck with my fingers.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, Rey,” I whisper. I pause for a second, then make my own admission, heart beating faster. “Does it matter to you that I _am_ a virgin?”

I can feel her shift, a soft laugh escaping her. “No. You’re perfect.”

Rey looks up at me, her expression thoughtful, and she presses a lingering kiss to my cheek. We settle more comfortably in the loveseat, and I find a movie for us to watch on cable. My parents look in from time to time, and they smile and shake their heads every time. Rey and I are content just to snuggle quietly together until dinner, and then until it’s time for Rey to go home.

+++

By Tuesday afternoon, I already feel like I’m going to put Hux through the fucking wall. He won’t shut up in any of our classes. He's busy kissing up to all our teachers, smirking whenever a classmate gets an answer wrong, and bragging about the car his dad promised him when he gets his license. I wonder what cruel twist of fate put this asshole in every single one of my classes. One of us isn’t going to make it to the end of the year. Seven more weeks. Fuck.

“Solo, we need to start the project. Did you read the chapter?” His mouth opens again as if he’s going to tag on something rude, but our history teacher walks by, looking over our shoulders to see if we’re working on the discussion questions written on the board.

“Yeah. I took some notes on it. How do you want to do this? I can go over to your house...” I suggest lightly, looking down at my textbook, eyes scanning for the names of the historical figures the teacher wants us to define.

“Okay. Tomorrow? Friday or the weekend?” He shrugs. “Provided Rey doesn’t kill us with her reckless driving, I can work on this whenever.”

I feel my jaw tighten. “We’ve survived so far. And yeah, I can do tomorrow. I’ll get some posterboards and stuff. Unless you’ve got Power Point?”

I quirk an eyebrow at him. Hux brightens. Something glossy like that is just the sort of thing he likes. He’s not a guy who wants to make hand-painted posters.

“No, but I can get it,” he starts to say, but I cut him off.

“Nah, I’ve got a copy I can load for you. I’ll bring it with me. Tomorrow would be good for me. My dad can drop me after school.”

Hux gives me a rare smile. He usually defaults to smug satisfaction, so seeing an expression this friendly on his pasty face is distinctly uncomfortable. Yikes.

At any rate, giving Hux a copy of PowerPoint is the least I can do, since I’ve already made up my mind to see what exactly he does have on his computer. I’ll just have to think of a way to get him to leave me alone with it. I flex my hands and take a breath to steady myself. There’s no immediate need to put him through a wall. For now.

+++

When I finish my homework and log online that evening, Hux is lying in wait for me on AIM.

**HuxSupreme:** Wazuuuuuup

 **xXBenOSXx:** Nothing. Just finished homework.

 **HuxSupreme:** We still on for tomorrow?

 **xXBenOSXx:** Yeah. I already put the PowerPoint disk in my bag. I figure we can make the lessons on that, then design all the assignments and the test?

 **HuxSupreme:** Okay. What about this weekend? We should meet Saturday or Sunday.

 **xXBenOSXx:** I’m bagging groceries this weekend at the commissary, but I should have time at night. Pay day weekend, so tip$$$$.

 **HuxSupreme:** No Rey? Already tired of sloppy seconds?

 **xXBenOSXx:** Fuck off, Hux.

 **HuxSupreme:** Don’t get pissy. I’m trying to be your friend.

 **xXBenOSXx:** I’ll see you tomorrow.

I fucking hate this guy. My friend? Does he really not get it? I pick up the nearest book, and I hurl it across the room, enjoying the way it cracks against my closet doors. AIM chirps again, and I look back at my monitor.

**ImPOEssible:** Duuuuude. You’re up late. Still doing homework?

 **xXBenOSXx:** Just killing time. What are you doing?

 **ImPOEssible:** Well, for starters, I am thinking of relocating to another country. Or planet.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Did your life of crime catch up to you?

 **ImPOEssible:** If I can’t get out, prison should work. BRB, gonna steal a car.

 **xXBenOSXx:** What are you hiding from?

 **ImPOEssible:** WHO. WHO am I hiding from is the question.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Okay. WHO are you hiding from?

 **ImPOEssible:** You seem like a reasonable dude, but you really are fucking oblivious! Solo, I am being STALKED. By a GIANTESS. And you have NOT noticed!?

 **xXBenOSXx:** No?

 **ImPOEssible:** Of course you haven’t. You’re a damn sasquatch. You don’t have the same fear the rest of us have.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Are you really mocking my people?

 **ImPOEssible:** This isn’t funny. GWEN PHASMA is following me around. She sat next to me at lunch today. I don’t know if she wants to put me in her pocket or throw me on the grill. I’m scared, man. Really scared.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Hmm. Well in sasquatch culture, we appreciate offerings of food. And never make direct eye contact.

 **ImPOEssible:** I hate you.

I’m trying not to laugh at Poe. Really. But Gwen Phasma is intense. She’s as tall as I am. She’s attractive. She’s sharp-tongued. She’s argumentative. A Valkyrie out of time. If she wanted to fight me, I’d be nervous. If she wanted romance with me, well, I could see why Poe was running. She’s intimidating as hell.

I log offline and crawl into bed. My phone rings, and I answer it quickly, not wanting my parents to hear it. I smile when I hear Rey’s voice.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I murmur into the phone. I pull the blankets up over myself and turn towards the wall, lowering my voice.

“I just wanted to say goodnight,” she says. “We didn’t get to have lunch together today.” She’s not wrong. Hux had hovered at the lunch table, eventually taking a seat near Gwen, who had, now that I recall it, casting a dazzling smile in Poe’s direction. When Rey walked by, tray in hand, she smiled at me and said Rose and Finn had asked her to sit with them.

“Yeah, it was a long day. You know I have to do that project with Hux for history?”

She just makes a small harrumphing noise.

“I feel the same way. Just gotta get through it. How are you? Did you have a good day?”

“Mmmhmm. Mrs. D’Acy liked my essay, and we did more line dancing in P.E.”

I closed my eyes, picturing her cute little ass wriggling along to the music. “Aaaaaay Macarena,” I tease, yawning and stretching.

“Are you sleepy, Ben?”

“A little. Just trying to get comfortable.”

I can hear her breath catch, and she whispers into the phone. “Can I help you _relax_?”

“I’d like that. That would be good.” I slip my hand into the front of my sweatpants and wrap my fingers around the base of my cock.

I close my eyes, and I listen to Rey’s soft voice telling me the filthy things I love to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I giveth smut, and then I giveth angst and comfort. 
> 
> This was a tough chapter to write! I freely admit that I’ve lost momentum on the Driver’s Ed portion of this story. I mean... they have a class session and a driving session every week. Let’s just assume the following: things are going fine, Hux is always an asshole, and Rey brake checks his ass at every opportunity. And Ben would gladly let Rey drive him anywhere she wants to go. 
> 
> Re: 90s-style slut-shaming and sex-shaming—it was a thing. Sure, there were kids who were sexually active, but bullying and hypocrisy go hand-in-hand. Right? Right. A “nice” girl like Rey would be a disruption to the system and become a target. And even though Rey is not religious, there’s so much internalized BS about virginity that she can’t help but to have conflicting feels about her status, especially when she’s getting keelhauled by her peers over something many of them have done. 
> 
> I’m struggling to not make Ben the most understanding teenage boy in the universe. He’s probably going to have to fuck up sometime soon to even this all out. 
> 
> Power Point presentations should be banned from classrooms. The sheer, mind-numbing agony of sitting in a darkened classroom whilst one’s classmates read slides aloud in wooden, disinterested voices still haunts me. But hey, we all know Hux is a dynamic public speaker, so maybe it won’t be so bad! 
> 
> I’ve been wanting to do another round of AIM chats, so I shoehorned one into this chapter. For fun, here’s a YouTube video full of old school AIM sounds: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cui1YCbwNJM 
> 
> FYI: I’m adding tags as I go. Please don’t hesitate to request tags if you feel I’m overlooking something. I’m here to entertain, not harm. 
> 
> Find me on Twitter! @junkyardjeditr1 
> 
> And just so you know, comments give me life.


	11. use your turn signals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Rey and Ben get bamboozled into a double date. Brief mention of Driver’s Ed and Rey’s job search. Roller rinks are where all the cool kids go. Covert canoodling ops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “So it’s officially official?” Rose whispers, bounding beside me as we walk towards the Driver’s Ed classroom. “You’re going steady? He’s your beau? Your gentleman caller? Your manfriend? Sweetums? Snuggleboo? Cuddlekins?”

With every awful term, I smack Rose’s arm. She’s possessed and cannot be stopped.

“Pookie bear? Sweetie pie? Mack daddy?”

“ROSE!”

Mercifully, she stops, but I think she’s just catching her breath. People look at us oddly in the hallway.

“Pleeeease, Rose, you’re embarrassing me,” I whisper. “And yes. Ben’s my boyfriend. He kind of has been for a while, so now you and Finn can stop asking me.” Like it hasn’t been perfectly obvious, given how much lipgloss I’ve borrowed from her over the last couple of months. I swear she just likes to watch me squirm, the little menace.

“I think I have even mooooore to ask you now,” Rose says with an exaggerated waggle of her eyebrows. Someone kill me.

“If you’re planning on that, I am going to demand you tell me everything about you and Finn!” I threaten.

“We’re just friends!” she protests.

“No. You are not,” I admonish her, shaking a finger in her face. “You two have this crazy nerd heat together.”

Rose groans. I look at her expectantly, and she crumbles. Finally. I got one on her. About time.

“And we make out sometimes,” she admitted, glancing around to make sure no one heard her.

“I knew it!” I do a little dance in a circle around her as she walks. “I kneeeeew it!”

A hand claps on my shoulder, startling me, and I see that it’s Finn’s grinning face. He just smirks at me, his eyes bright. “No, you did not.”

“We have to go out together. We barely know your tall, dark, mysterious man,” Rose proclaimed. “He lurks long enough to talk to you, and then he always disappears.”

“Sasquatch is elusive,” says a deep voice that sends a little thrill spinning in circles around my spine. I grin up at him even as Finn and Rose jump slightly.

“A wild Ben Solo appears!” I can’t help but laugh, and I take his hand. Ever since his return from Florida, I feel lighter. More _relaxed_ , the wicked part of my brain says. Beyond that, the nasty comments from the other students seem to be tapering off. Finally. They aren’t friendly to me, but going back to my original state of invisibility is a relief. And I have more friends than I did before.

Ben smiles at me, his grin so broadly awkward it dimples.

Finn mutters under his breath that we’re repulsive, and I smile even broader at Ben.

“So we’re all going roller skating on Friday night, yes?” Rose asks, and I know that she will certainly speak this plan into existence.

Ben looks alarmed, and Finn just sighs, defeated already. He knows better than to thwart her. “Yes, we’ll go roller skating.”

Rose claps her hands. “And Rey will stay the night at my house. It is decided.”

But I have appearances to maintain, and I start shaking my head. “Rose, you know I can’t promise that. I have to see if Aunt Linda can come stay with Maz...”

Ben gives me a strange look, dark brows knitting together in a dubious furrow. I continue to spin my tale, waving my hand in the air in a care-free manner, like this is the oldest of news. “Oh, well, she’s not really my aunt. She’s Maz’s friend. She comes to visit Maz sometimes, and sometimes she stays over. She can’t do it often, but I can check. It’s been a while since I asked her for a favor.”

He squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back. His whiskey-colored eyes study me for a moment, and I feel sick when realize I can’t determine if he believes me or not.

+++

The rest of the week passes in a blur. I’m busy writing a presentation for next week’s Driver’s Ed class on DUIs and DWIs. The thought of standing in front of my classmates for ten minutes does not leave me with much enthusiasm. There are some friendly faces in the room, but not enough to make up for Hux or Snap or any of the jackals they call friends. At least they can’t be so blatantly awful under the stern supervision of Ms. Parnadee.

Ben is spending more time with Hux now that they’re working on that history project together. I’ve asked Ben about his time with Hux. I want to know whether Hux keeps animals in glass jars in his bedroom or sets things on fire for a good time, but Ben never has much to say, to my eternal disappointment.

One truly excellent thing does happen this week, however. After I’ve been calling and calling since Spring Break, Plutt’s Repair Center finally returned my call asking about the electronics repair job. I’ve been busy reviewing my books and playing with the circuit kits I’ve collected over the years, and I feel like I could really make a convincing case for employment even though I’m not certified. Even though I’m only fifteen.

I’ve got instructions to bring my hand tools and show up for a working interview next weekend. I can still hear the surly voice telling me, “Be there at 8 a.m., sharp, _girl_ , or you’ll be out of luck before you start.”

Honestly, he sounds like a jerk, but at this point, I can’t afford to care. Ten bucks an hour is ten bucks an hour. I just need to figure out how to get there since it’s a little far to walk.

+++

On Friday night, Rose’s mom drops Finn, Rose, and me off at Rollerland, the big skating rink in Jakku, and Ben is already there waiting for us outside, looking pensive, his lips nearly in a pout.

“Why so glum?” I ask him as we stand in line to pay the entrance free.

“I don’t actually know how to roller skate.”

I clap my hand over my mouth. It’s already beginning to get crowded, and this probably is not going to be a great time to teach my extremely tall, introverted boyfriend how to skate.

He hangs his head, and I can see his ears turning pink from where they poke out from under his thick hair. Before I can say anything to the cashier or reach into the pocket of my shorts, he shakes his head at me and pulls out his faded green camouflage wallet, something I assume to be a discard of his dad’s, paying the $4 for each of us to enter the rink.

“I thought you knew how—I’m so sorry!”

“S’okay. I can try, though. But I’m going to have to beg you to stay with me. Squatch on skates—this won’t be pretty.”

It’s a miracle they even have skates for his big feet, and I check the stops and wheels to make sure everything’s steady before I hand them over for him to try on. We take the bench closest to the wooden skate floor so he won’t have too far to go in case of an emergency.

Finn and Rose sprawl beside us, tugging on their skates and looking around to see who else from school might be here. It’s dim, and there are flashing lights, as the old roller rink tries to vaguely create a night club experience for teenagers. The music skews strongly towards Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears, and I laugh at how out of place Ben is. Finn seems to take this in stride, but Ben is a brooding Rage Against the Machine guy. Everything from the aggressively neon-striped day-glo carpeting to the disco ball to the smell of overcooked frozen corndogs seems designed to make him suffer.

The look he casts Rose, the architect of his despair, should have withered her, but she just laughs gleefully.

“So you trust me, right?” I ask him, holding out my hands to him. As he carefully stands up, wobbly on his wheels, his hands clutching mine, I meet his eyes. “You can do this.”

Ben _really_ can’t skate. He steps more than rolls, and he lingers on the perimeter where small children cling like moss to the walls. I’m proud of him, however. He doesn’t fall. Not once. He knocks me over a couple of times, and I get a bruised knee out of the deal, but he stays upright, which is all I really wanted. He looks like a nervous Great Dane, but he’s my nervous Great Dane.

After a few turns, Ben begs me to leave him back at the bench, encouraging me to spend a little time with Finn and Rose. I kiss his cheek and promise not to abandon him for too long. However, in the whirl of teenagers circling the floor to the music, I can’t see Finn or Rose.

I see a lot of other faces from school—Kaydel and Mitaka are here, and I’d be surprised if Poe isn't around somewhere. Finn always gives him intel on social functions.

I skate a couple laps, swearing I can feel eyes on me, and I decide to head for the bathroom, which is past the arcade alcove. I side-step a very disgruntled and acned middle schooler in the narrow hall, only to plow into a wide chest. When I look up, I take a step back, but he’s already slipped an arm around my waist so I can’t go too far.

“Well, look at you, Rey,” Snap Wexley says with a sly smile, his brown eyes glinting meanly. “This is lucky.”

I push his arm off me. “If you say so.”

“I see you running around school with Solo now. I thought you’d be pining for me,” he muses, stepping in front of me as I try to get past him. I glare at him.

“It’s none of your business.” The words are hissed between my teeth.

“It could be my business again. You’re looking pretty good, Rey. Are you getting what you need from Solo? You know I can give it to you, right?” His voice is velvety, and I recognize the tone that fooled me before, albeit with softer words. “You were always so hot for it last summer.”

“You’re a jerk.” My voice shakes, I’m so angry, but I know I can’t punch his smug face without attracting attention. I can’t scream at him, either. “I didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“C'mon, I know made some mistakes, but you made me look bad in front of my dad. I want to show you how sorry I am. I don’t care if you’ve been riding another cock.” He reaches to trail a finger along my clavicle, but I shrink away from him. “I can make it up to you.”

“You can’t. It’s done. And anyway, sex with you was _awful_ ,” I say heatedly. I want to hurt him. And it’s true, anyway.

That seems to get his attention, and his eyes narrow at me. “Is that so?” His voice lowers dangerously.

“Yep.” I pop the p. I lift my chin, putting on an air of defiance. My eyes flash a challenge at him. And just as quickly, I lose.

“I have pictures that say otherwise, and you know it,” he whispers, leaning in so close I can feel his warm breath on my ear. He smells overwhelmingly like some awful body spray. “I’ve only shown a few of my friends, but I’m sure other people might want to see. Maybe you should be friendlier.”

My dinner threatens to make a surprise appearance, my stomach clenches so hard in fear. Snap smirks at my discomfort, and he outright laughs when I stumble, tripping over my roller skates as I try to stump away on the stained, sticky day-glo rink carpeting. I pick myself up, rubbing at the carpet burn on my knees as I get away from him as fast as I can.

I go back to Ben’s side, the only place I want to be. I want to curl against him like a small animal hiding from a bird of prey. He's flanked by Poe and Gwen, and he’s already taken off his roller skates, having had enough trauma this evening. Poe’s talking animatedly, his dark eyes flashing with mirth, and Gwen is looking at him with cartoon hearts in her eyes, and I'd find it funny if I didn’t feel so sick.

Ben looks up at me, eyes moving over my raw knees and my red face. His eyebrows lift in concern. He doesn’t seem to want to say anything in front of Poe and Gwen, however, so he just touches my clammy hand and pulls me down next to him, tucking me against his side. He’s so warm, and I want to bury my face in his neck. Gwen gives me a subtly scornful glance, but I meet her gaze dispassionately.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, but where on Earth are Finn and Rose?” I blurt out, smiling apologetically at Poe. “I’ve been looking for them.” I think if I can gather them up, maybe I can convince them it’s time to leave. I’ve had enough.

Poe brightens at the opportunity to go look for Finn. “I think I saw Finn and Rose at the Snack Bar talking to Jannah Calrissian. I’ll go find him, uh, them.” Poe is off in a flash, and Gwen stands, casually stretching, and saunters after him.

Ben and just looks at me, speechless with amusement. “That’s not going to go well.”

After a beat, his head shakes almost imperceptibly as he remembers he’d been meaning to see why I was so flustered. His hand squeezes mine. “Did something happen?”

I can’t meet his eyes. I just squeeze his hand. “Oh, no. I just tripped. My knees just hurt.”

+++

Later that night, I’ve already dozed off when Rose shakes me awake. I’m in her old My Little Pony sleeping bag on the floor. I grunt slightly, and I push her away from me and roll over.

“Rose, you’re killing me.”

“Get up,” she hisses. “Up, up, up!”

I groan, and I see she’s pulled on her tennis shoes, even though she’s still wearing her pajamas. She’s tugging a zip-up hooding on as she kicks at me to get up.

“What are we doing?” I whisper, crawling out of the bag and reaching for my gray tennis shoes with the frayed laces. I’ve scrubbed them with sneaker shampoo so many times, and they still look permanently scuffed.

Rose doesn’t answer me, but she slides open her bedroom window. It’s a red brick one-story ranch house, so her intent is becoming clear. I shiver before we’re even out in the cool night air, and she hands me a flannel shirt to pull over my thin tee shirt. I’m glad I have my pajama shorts, even if they are a little on the short side.

She motions for me to follow her, and soon we’re silently slipping out of the window, and we’re outside. Rose holds up her finger, motioning for me to remain silent, and we slip into the shadows.

Rose and I walk to the large playground near one of the housing areas that is tucked into a corner of post that gradually gives way to a sand pine forest. The playground is dark, half-lit only by distant streetlamps. Gazebos an assortment of grilling stations and picnic tables are closer to the tree line, where there’s little light at all.

We’ve been cautious, staying off the sidewalks and keeping to a circuitous route to reach our destination. There’s a post-wide curfew for teenagers, and it won’t do either of us any good to get scooped up by the MPs. We finally reach the gazebos, when we hear the whisper.

“Pssssssst. Pssssssst. Rose! Rey!” Finn’s head bobs up over the ledge of the gazebo and motions for us to clamber up the steps. When we get inside, we see he’s not alone. Ben is there, grinning, and before he can beckon, I’m already scurrying to scoot next to him on the floor.

“So that’s why Finn rode back with you and your dad, and not Rose and me,” I said with a laugh. “Everyone was plotting. I’m the only one who didn’t know what was going on tonight.”

Rose rolled her eyes as she sat next to Finn, who was rummaging in his hoodie’s pockets. “Did you really not know we would sneak out?”

Finn produced a flask with a flourish, and he unscrewed it before taking a long sip and passing it to Rose. Frankly, I've rarely been more surprised. They take all the honors classes, work on the yearbook, and he even plays on the baseball team. Rose goes to church every Sunday morning and Wednesday night with her family.

“Well, no... I just thought we’d watch movies all night and eat ice cream or something,” I admit. Ben slides his arm around me and kisses the side of my head, laughing. It’s amazing how easily he’s fallen in with my friends, as if he needed a space where he could relax, the way I had when I met them.

“I was surprised, too, when Finn told me the plan,” Ben said, reaching to take the flask from Rose after she took a swig. He put it to his lips and tilted it back, swallowing in a big gulp. “I haven’t sneaked out since Chandrila. Or had whiskey.”

Ben puts the flask in my hands, and I tentatively sniff, immediately wrinkling my nose at the smell. I still take a small sip, and immediately cough and sputter. But I sip again, to see if it improves any. Not really.

We pass the flask around until it’s empty, and I feel warm and hazy. I press my hands to my face and am surprised at how warm my cheeks are. Ben grins when I cup his face, too, testing the warmth. Rose is looking a little pink, as well. Soon, though, Finn is tugging her hand, and they leave the gazebo to find their own little hideaway.

“Be back in a little while, Rey!” Rose says before giggling into the dark with Finn. Ben and I are left alone together in the dark gazebo.

My fingers dance across Ben’s hand, and I look up at him. I don’t think we’ve ever been this thoroughly unsupervised, and I realize quickly that his thoughts match my own when he pulls me into his lap. His large, warm hand grips my hip, squeezing experimentally, as his dark eyes study my face, lingering on my lips. He reaches to cup my face.

“One of these days, I’m going to make you tell me all your secrets, Rey.” His voice is low and serious, and his thumb brushes against my lower lip.

“I want to know what happened at the rink tonight.” His fingers skim over my scraped knees from when I’d fallen onto the carpeting.

I push that thought as far away as I can. Right now, my limbs feel so nicely loose after the whiskey from Finn’s flask, and the last thing I want to do is talk about _that_. I just want to feel free.

So I ignore what Ben says. I decide to distract him.

I slip my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a firm kiss. After a second, as if he’s deciding whether to call me out on changing the subject, his lips press hard and return my intensity, which makes my heart speed up.

Ben’s hand squeezes harder before sliding past my waist and up my ribcage. His fingers move delicately over the ripple of each rib, and I can feel how warm his hands are through the borrowed flannel shirt from Rose and my thin shirt.

My lips soften against his, and I open my mouth so I can tease my tongue over his lips. Ben makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat, and he slips a hand inside the flannel shirt Rose lent me to cup one of my breasts tentatively through the thin cotton of my tee shirt. He startles immediately, pulling his hand back as if scalded, betraying any cool he might have been trying to maintain. His plush lips are slightly parted as he drops his eyes to my chest.

“Y-you’re not wearing a bra?”

“Rose pulled me out of bed to come here...” I say, suddenly uncertain if I should reach for his hand and guide it back onto me, or button up the flannel shirt, or move to Sweden, or...

“Oh,” he says softly. Then he smiles sheepishly, his hand hovering in the air between us awkwardly before cupping my breast against, fitting it neatly against the palm of his big hand. “Is this okay?”

I try not to bite my lip as I nod, and he brushes his thumb across my nipple, and I can feel it pebble. I shiver, arching slightly, pressing my breast harder against the palm of his hand. His touch is quickly destroying my higher-level thought processes. After a moment of him caressing me gently, I feel him shift, and then his lips crash against mine roughly. I get the sense he wants to devour me, and I gasp into the kiss.

“Rey,” he groans, and when I shift in his lap, I can feel his hard erection underneath me. His eyes are pure heat, and I nudge my nose against his, letting our lips nuzzle tenderly. “Can I...?”

His words drift off, and I kiss him again, my lips moving to his jaw briefly while my heart seems to vibrate with its wild pace. When I pull back, I’m breathing harder, and he is shifting his legs out from underneath where I sit on his lap, and he gently lays me back on the dusty floor of the gazebo.

Ben hovers, one muscular leg pressed between mine, and he is braced on his elbows above me. He caresses my face, his eyes trained on me as if he can’t bear to look away. As he kisses me again and again, eager in his affections, he slips a hand to the hem of my tee shirt and begins to tug it upward. I haven’t the inclination to resist. Not when it feels like every touch makes me feel so cherished.

Ben licks his lips and eases my tee shirt up, revealing my small, pert breasts. My nipples tighten in the cool night air, and he briefly looks at the ceiling of the gazebo as if he’s saying a silent prayer of gratitude.

“You’re so beautiful, Rey,” he whispers, and he lowers his forehead to rest in the little valley between my breasts. “I’ve been dying to touch you like this.”

He sighs against me, his breath warm on my skin, and I shiver, closing my eyes. I slip my fingers into his thick hair, then trace his ears with a teasing fingertip. He’s embarrassed by his ears, but I love them. They’re his.

Ben leisurely kisses each breast, his lips soft and warm and wet. He mouths at my nipples, and I practically purr from the sensation. He cups one breast in his massive hand, and licks underneath the other, then licking a stripe up towards my nipple.

“Ben,” I sigh, shifting underneath him. “Keep going,” I urge him.

“Good?” His voice is barely audible as he begins to suckle on my hard nipple, carefully brushing his thumb back and forth across the other. What he’s doing is sending tendrils of pleasure down my body, a pleasure that seems to curl between my legs, deep inside of me. I can’t help but shift and press my thighs together.

“So good, Ben,” I moan.

“You taste so sweet, Rey.” His voice is a groan, and he shifts against me, and there’s no mistaking his erection through his basketball shorts. “See what you do to me? Just seeing you dance in P.E. made me rock hard,” he says with a shaky laugh.

Ben grazes his teeth over my nipple, and I shudder.

“Can you help me cum?” he whispers, licking and nipping at my breasts more rapidly, getting bolder as I soften underneath him, any residual shyness melting. We’d been so bold over the phone, but touching and talking in person is new terrain. For him. And I’m barely de-virginized, anyway, to be honest. 

I nod, and I run my hands over his shoulders as he shifts more fully on top of me, nudging my thighs apart with his knee so he can rest between them. His cock is hard as steel, and I gasp as he presses the hard ridge between my legs, right against my core. Even through his shorts, and through my thin pajama bottoms, I can feel how absolutely rigid he is. He feels large. So large.

I shake slightly underneath him, feeling a pulse of anxiety that quickly evaporates. Ben kisses me sweetly, soothing me, then palms my tits with a decadent sigh. And slowly, he shifts his hips, beginning to grind rhythmically. He almost immediately bumps into my clit, and I whimper, realizing then how wet I am becoming. I can feel my arousal blooming slowly.

Ben groans in response, and he slides a hand down to cup my ass, pulling me tight against his hips as he rocks harder and faster. The friction between us is electric, and my eyes roll back into my head as I whine in pleasure. I feel so close as something builds in my core, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, my hips surging upward eagerly.

“Please, Ben... --ah!”

My inner muscles are throbbing, clenching almost violently at the sensations he’s causing, and I cry out, my hands fisting into his tee shirt as I try to anchor myself to this world. In response, he bucks roughly against my core, and I come with an intensity that leaves me seeing stars as my legs shake and my hips jerk.

Ben pants against my neck, kissing and licking, moaning my name while he thrusts raggedly, chasing his own pleasure. His movements begin to stutter and jerk sharply, and he shouts, his whole body stiffening then quaking with his release.

He falls into me, but not wanting to crush me, he carefully slides off me to rest at my side, his hands still trembling. His face is beatific, and he gently reaches to cups one of my breasts as he leans over me for a tender kiss. I nuzzle into his lips, feeling even more boneless after my orgasm.

“That was incredible,” he whispers, trailing a finger down my cheek as he openly admires my face. “You’re incredible.”

I glow under his praise, and I marvel at him as well. I hadn’t known it could feel this way.

“It felt so good, Ben. _You_ felt so good,” I whisper in return, running my fingers through his soft, black hair.

+++

It doesn’t take long before Rose and Finn come to collect us, looking sweaty and disheveled, but very pleased. I’d already peeled off my tee shirt and given it to Ben when he had admitted he had a bit of a mess inside his shorts to deal with. Now I’m just wearing Rose’s flannel shirt, this time all the way button.

Rose and I make it back to her house somewhere around 3 a.m., and we quietly get ready for bed... again.

“Rose, did you and Finn... you know?” I ask quietly, snuggling deeper into the sleeping bag.

She huffs a small laugh. “Are you kidding? We like to fool around, but I’m not going that far. I’m wearing white on my wedding day.”

“Oh. Just curious,” I say, burying my face in my pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MP = Military Police 
> 
> Rose is 100% a secret naughty girl. Church girl and yearbook editor by day, and vixen by night. She’s all about that technical virginity. I'm really enjoying writing her so far--she has such a joyfully chaotic energy.
> 
> Hux loves Gwen (but used to lust after Rey) who loves Poe who loves Finn (et al) who loves Rose (and Poe). No one loves Hux, that’s for damn sure. 
> 
> I keep trying to work in as many Star Wars characters as possible, but it’s REALLY hard to juggle that many characters! Too many dicks on the dance floor! So I’ll probably name drop and just keep moving in most cases. I think I have enough characters to wrangle right now. 
> 
> Sorry, long chapter is long. I had a lot of things I wanted to cover from Rey’s POV. Chapters might actually be getting longer from here on out, and therefore there’s a solid chance they won’t be as frequent. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has been reading along so far. I hope you're entertained--I'm doing my best!
> 
> You can find me on the Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1


	12. don't swerve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Ben gets caught. Ben spends quality time with Hux and his computer. Rey’s Driver’s Ed presentation goes sideways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Rey_. I’m only capable of one thought. _Rey_. 

My face feels like it’s going to split in half, I’m grinning so hard as I walk home. I don’t care about the residual stickiness in my shorts. I’ve just had one of the greatest experiences of my life. I slip silently into the back yard and head for the patio. I’ve left the sliding glass doors unlatched—they're the quietest in the house. But as I carefully ease the door open, the lights in the den flicker on, and I see my mother standing by the floor lamp, a sour look on her face. 

Fuck. 

Inwardly, I steel myself for the inevitable, and I step into the den, closing the door behind me. 

“Sit down. Now,” she hisses, pointing sharply at the armchair nearest me. Oh, this wasn’t good. She was taking the high ground. Ever since I’d gotten taller than her, somewhere around my 11th birthday, she’d always required that I sit when she lectured me whenever I was deeply, deeply in trouble. 

I do as she asks, folding my hands in my lap and looking up at her. She looks tired, and I feel a pang of remorse. There are streaks of gray in her hair that weren’t there a couple years ago, and I know I’m the cause for at least half of them. My dad and the US Army probably caused the other half. 

“What’s the one thing we agreed on in this family, that’s more important than anything?” she starts, crossing her arms across her chest. Even in her bathrobe, she’s imposing. 

“Honesty.” 

“Was it honest to sneak out of the house?” 

“No.” I chew on the inside of my cheek, fidgeting. 

“Do you know how I felt when I heard that door open, then watched you sneak off into the night?” 

“Angry?” 

Mom shakes her head, and she takes a step closer to me. “Betrayed. And worried. And afraid. Mostly afraid. Ben, things have been so steady since we came here. You’ve been better. Your father and I have been better. I really felt like everything was working. And then you just slip into the darkness, like in Chandrila.” 

I meet her eyes, and I feel the old guilt prickle underneath my skin, making me feel ashamed all over again at what had happened. 

“I swear it’s not like Chandrila, Mom. I’m sorry I betrayed your trust. But I swear to god, I didn’t go out there to do anything like that.” I hadn’t left a swathe of shattered windows and smashed fences in my turbulent wake. I hadn’t covered anything in spray paint. No one was left crumpled and bloody. No one’s bones were broken. 

_The other boy’s lies on the ground, his left arm twisted at an impossible angle. He’s crying, snot running down his nose, and I kick him in the ribs again. And again. Until I hear something crunch, and he gasps in pain._

_“Get up,” I scream. “Get the fuck up, and you say that shit to my face.”_

_He can’t get up._

She hums low in response, then steps closer, tucking her fingers under my chin to tip my head up at her. She’s looking in my eyes, then she leans in and sniffs. I cringe, knowing I smell like whiskey, and sweat, and _other things_. 

“You’ve been drinking.” 

I can tell her anger is ramping up. She has a temper like I do. Like my dad does. She has a better handle on it, but tonight I can see her visibly struggle to maintain her cool. She is seconds from going nuclear. 

"With friends, Mom. Not alone. Not because I’m angry. Not because I’m lonely,” I say quickly, holding my hands up. 

“Do you understand why I would find this situation alarming, Benjamin Solo?” she asks, each word crisp, as if cut from a sharp stencil press. “I wanted to put Chandrila in the past. I _want_ to trust you. I _want_ to believe in you.” 

“You can,” I insist. “I’m sorry about tonight. I promise I’ll tell you in the future.” 

I grab my mom’s hands, and they’re so small in mine, and I can see she’s fighting angry tears now. Oh, this is way worse than nuclear, and I feel torn between my own rising anger, and the black hole of guilt I wish would just swallow me up and put me out of my misery. 

“Why can’t you believe me?” I ask, finally. “Is it because you think I’ll never be anything but a fuck up?” My voice is getting loud, and I let go of her hands. 

“Ben, calm down,” she warns. “If you say you were with friends, I believe you. What I can’t abide is the sneaking. The sneaking is what started the problems in Chandrila.” 

“What started the problem is you and Dad not noticing me until I started getting dragged home by the MPs,” I spat at her. “You’re fine whenever you think I’m a good, quiet boy, because it’s less effort.” 

Mom takes in a sharp, sudden breath, as if she’s just been stabbed. “That is not true, and you know it. We did everything could to always be there for you, even when we had the deployments. We thought we were lucky you’re so bright and well-behaved, but we never took it for granted. Never.” 

Her words spark a fire of memory within me, the blaze of outrage pushing outward from inside my chest. It feels like it will burn through my ribs at any moment, and I realize my hands are shaking. 

They did take our relationship for granted. They were affectionate, always. Kind, always. But in an absent-minded way. We shuffled from one duty station to another, and when it occasionally happened that both were deployed or had long TDYs and training schools, they’d shunt me off to my Uncle Luke. Luke who had no idea how to talk to anyone under the age of 40. They never asked how I felt. They just assumed I was fine. It was just expected that I’d attend as many schools as their PCS schedule required of me, and that I’d grow up never having any lasting friendships. It was what Army brats did, after all. 

I stand abruptly, towering over my tiny mother, and she takes a step back instinctively. My heart tears when I realize my own mother is wary of me. 

“I went out. I hung out with Rose, and Finn, and Rey. We drank some whiskey. And now I’m home,” I grit out the words, clenching and unclenching my fists. “Nothing was damaged. I didn’t hurt anyone.” 

Mom is silent for a long moment. She sinks onto the couch, as if exhausted to the core of her soul, her narrow shoulders sagging. I hesitate, then I sit next to her, the springs in the old couch groaning under my weight. She huffs a little laugh. 

“We should probably meet with the counselor this week.” 

I nod. It’s a good idea. “So... the next time I want to go out and drink whiskey with my girlfriend and her friends, it’ll be okay? I just have to ask?” 

She gives me a wry look. “Theoretically.” 

+++ 

I bag groceries at the commissary all day Saturday, from open until close, and it’s a struggle with limited sleep, but I still manage to make a lot of tips. When I crawl into bed that night, I call Rey. I sleep better when I get to hear her voice, and I just like to talk to her anyway. 

She sounds drowsy but happy, and I close my eyes, picturing how she looked the evening before, when she was so soft and flushed underneath me from the way I was touching her. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you get home alright?” 

“Mmmhmm. Mrs. Tico dropped me off after lunch. I’ve been doing homework all day, and now I’m really sleepy. I’m not usually up so late.” 

“I won’t keep you. I just wanted to see how you were. Were you okay this morning? The whiskey wasn’t too much?” 

“I felt a little funny. Kind of dried out,” she admits. If I had to put money on it, that was probably Rey’s first drink. 

I grin into the phone. “Look at you. Your first hangover.” 

She snorts, trying to hold back a laugh. “I was fine. It wasn’t so bad.” 

“How’re your knees?” I try to ask casually. It’s been bugging me again. The look on her face and the raw skin on her knees and the way she’d clung to me at the skating rink all told me something wasn’t right. When I’d asked again in the gazebo, there had been a flicker of a despair so acute it had stolen my breath. Instead, she’d kissed me, and my thoughts had turned to other, more interesting things. 

“You act like you’ve never heard of anyone falling down before,” she blurts out, her tone sharp. “I’m clumsy, I guess, okay?” 

It’s not true, though. Rey isn’t clumsy. She’s light on her feet, moves nimbly, and even wearing heavy boots she doesn’t clomp along like others do. There’s something feline about the way she moves. 

“Fine, I won’t ask, then. Shit,” I mutter. 

“Fine, then,” she retorts. 

A yawning silence expands between us, and I pull the blankets up around my shoulders, and I sigh, sulking. 

“I’m really tired,” Rey mutters. “Goodnight, Ben.” 

She hangs up before I can say a word. I roll over to slam the cordless phone back onto its little dock, and I switch off my lamp. It’s a long time before I can fall asleep. 

+++ 

I’m in a black fog of aggravation by the time my dad drops me off at Hux’s house on Sunday afternoon so we can work on our history presentation. Rey didn’t answer her phone when I tried calling her, and when I asked mom if I could go for a practice drive, she pointedly suggested I mow the yard instead. My dad stops in my room at mid-day to ask if I need to talk about anything, and when I stare at him, perplexed, he mutters to himself with a pained groan, and wipes his hand down his face, then reaching to scratch embarrassedly at his stubble. 

“I’m just going to say it straight out. Your mom was doing your laundry this morning, and, uh, she couldn’t help but notice that your clothes from the last night were, uh...” 

_...caked in dried_ _jizz_. I felt my face heat up at the thought of my mother discovering all that. 

“I told her I’d do my laundry!” I say, flustered. 

“She was tryin’ to be nice to you!” he says, waving his hands at me, clearly exasperated. His face is getting as red as mine. Talking about sex with me is probably on his avoid-at-all-costs list. _Mine, too, Dad._

“And now I’ve been told to ask you if there’s anything you want to talk about, and I’ve been told to remind you to be a gentleman with Rey, ‘cause she’s a real sweet girl.” 

“No, Dad,” I choke out. The awkwardness has me cringing so hard my shoulders feel like they’re going to touch. I’d volunteer to swim in lava right now if I could. “Nothing to talk about. Really. Just... no.” 

And now, I get to spend another cursed afternoon with Armitage Hux. 

It's not shaping up to be the best Sunday I’ve ever had. 

Hux’s house is a large place with white siding and vivid shutters in the nicest neighborhood in Jakku. I gather from the proudly displayed plaques and photos, as I follow him inside, through the foyer, and up the stairs to his room, that his dad is a retired one star. Everything is eerily clean, with a strangely antiseptic vibe that is entirely contrary to the tidy but slightly chaotic comfort of my house. 

Hux slides into the extra chair, letting me take the one in front of his computer. We’ve reached a strange détente where we’re not friends, and where we’re able to tolerate each other, if only barely. He seems content with that, and I wonder if that’s just how he relates to people. He’s still a nasty asshole, occasionally saying gross things about Rey, but it’s slowed down after I’ve told him to go fuck himself about a hundred times. 

_“Have you sampled her wares yet, Solo?” Her wares? Hux would twirl his mustache like an old-timey villain if he could grow one._

_“Can you just stop, already?” I snap at him, feeling my anger coil_ _venomously_ _._

_He rolls his eyes dramatically. “Do you always have to be the hero? For her? She showed up last school year looking like her dog died, and whenever a guy asked her out, she would look up with those sad little doe eyes, and say she wasn’t allowed.”_

_I lift my eyebrows as if to say, “So?”_

_Hux snorts. “Well, school let out, and in less than two months, Snap was bragging about how easy she was. She was working at his dad’s store, and he says she practically begged him for it.”_

_“Go f-”_

_Hux cut me off. “I know, I know. I can go fuck myself.”_

“Is it better after the defragmenting?” I ask him, swirling the mouse to wake up the monitor. 

“Somewhat. So you think this file scrubber will speed it up?” 

I nod confidently, and I lean over to rummage in my backpack. 

“Definitely. It’ll sweep off every nonessential background file, leaving your computer lean and mean. Guaranteed.” I pull out a diskette with a flourish and give him a brief smile, trying to project cool competence. So far, he’s accepted everything at face value. 

_“I’m_ _gonna_ _go get some water and throw some pizza rolls in the oven. You want anything?” Hux asks, scooting back his chair. I’ve loaded Power Point on his computer, and we have been filling out the slides for our presentation._

_“Sure, water’s good. Hey, can I use your internet? I want to search some WWII pictures for our slide deck.”_

_He nods, and he clicks into AOL and logs on for me, using his account. I sit down, and when he’s gone, the first thing I do is open his email._

_My fingers tremble, and I glance over my shoulder before opening his sent folder and doing a quick search for emails containing file attachments—in particular, .jpgs of Rey. When I see the list of recipients, it isn’t so much that my heart stops as freezes into a block of ice instantaneously. There are three different pictures in circulation, and there are at least twenty guys who’ve been sent those pictures. Twenty. Two Zero. And there’s no telling where the pictures have gone from there. I grab my notebook, and I start writing down email addresses and AOL usernames as fast as I can. I have no idea what I’m going to do with this, but I want the names. Just in case I can think of something._

_By the time Hux gets back with the pizza rolls and water, I’m scrolling through pictures of the D-Day landing at Normandy, and my notebook has been dropped back into my bag. I’ve also swiped a couple of unmarked diskettes from his desk, wanting to check out the contents._

_“Dude, your computer is slow. Isn’t it new? I thought you said you just got this.”_

_Hux bristles. “It’s 200Mhz. It’s not slow.”_

_“When’s the last time you defragmented it? That’s probably what’s going on. I’ve got a file scrubber program, too, if you don’t see a big change.”_

Hux takes me at face value. I’ve made it clear to him I’m a computer guy, and I’ve taken the project seriously. We’ve shifted into polite neutral territory. At least on the surface. So here I am today with the file scrubber on a diskette. It won’t erase anything he needs to run his computer, but I’ve configured the scrub to search for the .jpgs and make them disappear. It’s good as long as he hasn’t changed the file names. 

The main problem is, I can only do this on Hux’s computer. It still feels good to do something. Anything. 

I set the diskette on the desk, and I pull up the work we’ve been doing. Our PowerPoint is complete, and now we’re just reviewing the printouts I made so we can review. 

“Hey, mind if I go ahead and launch the file scrubber? It’ll take a while to finish.” 

We settle in to finish our work, the computer tower whirring and clicking occasionally behind us, and when the scrub is complete, I come up with another excuse for Hux to log me into his AOL account. When he leaves to use the bathroom, I delete all the emails sent with those attachments—they're so far in the past, he won’t notice for a long while—and I find the original email from Snap, with a subject line of “told you so.” That’s deleted, too. 

If Hux figures it out, I’m not too concerned. What’s he going to do to me? Tell his father I deleted naked pictures of my girlfriend off his computer? Fuck that guy. 

+++ 

I find Rey at lunch, looking pretty in an off-white shirt with embroidery around the neckline and olive green Bermuda shorts, her scuffed knees hanging out. We take our lunches to a picnic table outside the cafeteria. She looks chagrined, strands of her chestnut brown hair hanging in her face as she looks down at her hands. 

“Sorry I didn’t call you back,” she says, her voice soft. There’s a waver that’s unusual, and I peer down at her, feeling a ripple of concern. When her eyes meet mine, I can see the sincerity of her apology, shining with warmth in their hazel depths. “I was tired, and Maz has been sick, and I've been feeling pinched.” 

Her thumb strokes over the back of my hand. “It’s not a good excuse, but I am sorry.” 

“Is Maz going to be okay? Do you need anything for her?” 

Rey shakes her head, the smile fading from her face as if she just doesn’t have the strength to hold it there anymore. 

I look to make sure no teachers are strolling by, monitoring students as they eat, and I sneak a quick kiss to her cheek. I feel her lean into my side, her lithe body pressing for just a bit of warmth. 

“Don’t worry about the call. I had to deal with Hux, so I was feeling pissy, anyway. He’s such a douche.” My tone is nonchalant, and I stretch my arms over my head, enjoying the way my bones crack. 

I catch Rey giving me an admiring look as she glances over my shoulders and at the little strip of skin between my pants and the hem of my shirt before I lower my arms, and I wink at her, making her laugh. 

I wish I could tell her what I did at Hux’s. I want to see the look on her face; I can almost imagine how broadly she’d smile with that dazzling white grin of hers, and how her eyes would light up knowing I was defending her. I want so badly for her to know she’s not alone. But I don’t know how to talk to her about this. When I think of the pictures, my thoughts slide and tumble and there are no clear paths forward. 

“Did you at least finish the project? The presentation is soon.” 

“It’s done. We don’t need to meet again, I think.” I watch her attack her lunch, fascinated by how much, how quickly she can shove into her mouth. She approaches food in a workmanlike manner—she only slows down in front of my parents, trying to make a good impression. 

“I have to present my DUI facts today in Driver’s Ed.” She crosses her eyes and sticks out her tongue. “I’m glad you’ll be there. I don’t really like getting up to talk in front of some of them.” 

“They’re a tough crowd,” I admit. 

+++

After Zorii’s done with her presentation on the repercussions of violating school zone speed limits, Parnadee looks at her attendance sheet to select the next presenter. There’s only one more week of Driver’s Ed after this, and everyone’s been presenting on various driving-related topics over the last few weeks. Today’s presentations are the last of the course. Next week—the final written test and final details on what to expect at the DMV. 

“Rey Sands? Are you ready to share your DUI presentation?” 

Rey nods and straightens her little stack of cards as she gets up from her desk and goes to the front of the classroom to take her place. She looks uncomfortable, but when Ms. Parnadee says she can start, she does without hesitation. There’s some light snickering from the back of the room, which earns an annoyed glare from Parnadee. 

She’s barely been speaking for thirty seconds when the intercom crackles and beeps, making everyone jump. 

“Ms. Parnadee, do you mind swinging by the office to pick up your curriculum packet for summer?” 

Parnadee buzzes back and announces she’s on her way. She gives us all a stern glare as she heads for the door. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Rey, you can continue.” 

When she’s gone, Rey takes a breath and looks back down at her cards. “As a driver, you are responsible for knowing to drive only with a clear state of mind-” 

A voice from the back of room catcalls her, and she looks up warily. I turn my head to glare, then look back at her with an encouraging smile. She starts again. 

“You can get a DUI without ever having a dr-” She breaks off as another of our classmates interrupts her. 

“What happened to your knees, Rey? You been doing something?” 

Hux snorts a laugh in front of me, and I shove my hand against the back of his head, thumping it hard. Next time he makes a sound, I swear I’ll throw him on the floor. 

She reddens, and I see her hesitate, her voice halting. “I tripped on the carpet at the skating rink...” 

I hear laughter, and I look around the classroom. I see Rose and Finn, faces etched in disgust. Finn is starting to stand up, looking like he wants to say something. Poe’s seething. Even Gwen’s looking around as if she’s seeing these people for the first time. 

I hear another laugh from the middle of the room where Snap and some of his friends lounge arrogantly, looking like cats who’ve found a stray mouse to pursue. 

“Did you? I remember it differently,” Snap says with a casual smirk. “Looked pretty as a picture.” 

“You’re a liar,” Rey exhales. She jumps slightly as I lurch forcefully to my feet. I vaguely hear my desk scrape and crash onto its side after teetering for a second. My feet feel like they’re in concrete and I can’t take a step. 

“Can all of you just shut up,” Finn shouts. The noise in the room is getting louder. 

He’s ignored, as another boy crows, “I’ve seen some nice pictures of her. I think just about everyone has.” 

Snap calls out across the classroom to me, where I’m fighting the urge to slam his skull against the cinderblock walls of the classroom until his body goes limp. 

“Well, tell us, Solo. Is she as good as the pictures?” 

I feel nearly twenty pairs of eyes on me, and I find myself stuck fast, chest heaving as if I’ve been running hard sprints uphill. There’s only one face I want to see. Dread to see. I look up Rey, and she’s white-faced, hazel eyes wide and glassy. Her hands shake, and she’s at risk of dropping her little stack of neatly annotated index cards. 

“C’mon, Solo. I take a pretty good photo. Admit it.” 

I can’t distinguish the voices from one another any longer. It’s all becoming roaring white noise as my head pounds, and my heart constricts at the visceral pain on Rey’s face. The betrayal reflecting in her eyes tears at my guts, and I take a staggering step forward as if I can make it all stop if I can just touch her. 

Rey is shaking with the effort to stay calm. She looks like she’s about to vibrate out of her skin. With as much dignity as she can muster, she walks past me to pick up her battered green backpack, never once looking at me, and she walks out of the classroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TDY = Tour of Duty. This is not necessarily a military action avoiding combat. TDYs can include training exercises, time in training schools, or other purposes. 
> 
> Commissary = Grocery store on a US military base. It is owned/operated by the Department of Defense. The groceries are tax free. Only military members, disabled veterans, their immediate family members, et al, can shop there. 
> 
> In 1998, 50% of the United States’ internet users were on AOL. 
> 
> Diskettes, also known as 3.5” floppies, were the most common method of mobile storage. USB drives and the cloud, etc., weren’t really a thing. If you were fancy, you had a .zip drive. 
> 
> And yes, 200 MHz was considered lightning fast for a computer processing speed. I also spent a lot of time defragmenting my computer back then in hopes of better performance. And yes, file scrubber programs are a thing—I looked it up. Ben would have just had to add the file name to the configuration settings, not even code anything. 
> 
> Sorry about the angst train, but the plot had to thicken at some point. 
> 
> Making Snap the primary villain is a weird choice, but what the hell. Why not? 
> 
> Come find me on the Twitter. I’m @junkyardjeditr1


	13. ***AUTHOR UPDATE***

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT REVISION NOTICE

Hey, everyone!

Between August 14 and August 17, I revised Chapters 1-12. The heaviest revisions are in Chapters 1-9, and particularly in Chapters 1-4. I've added some scenes, expanded/clarified some dialogue, fixed a couple timeline issues, and I've spent a little more time seeding plot points and character development. I realized I'd left some gaps, so I wanted to flesh things out a bit more.

If you read this fic prior to 8/17, the revisions were not complete. FWIW, the overarching plot has not effectively changed --no random plot twists or character surprises were thrown in. However, Ch. 10 IS dirtier than it used to be! 

I have a draft of the next chapter just about ready to go, but I need to spend a little time editing it and making sure my plan for future chapters is sound. I've provided this notice so anyone who wants to can get caught up with the new (and hopefully improved) version of this story before I drop the next installment.

For everyone who has been reading, I appreciate you all, and I hope to continue to entertain you. 

Much love,

JunkyardJediTrash   
Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1


	14. slow before you turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Rey takes a sabbatical from high school. Rey meets Unkar Plutt. Mother’s Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My phone keeps ringing. Rose calls at least twice a day. Finn calls every day. Even Poe calls. Ben doesn’t call.

When my phone isn’t ringing, I lay in bed curled around a pillow, trying desperately to sleep. Sleep doesn’t come to me, but the tears do, hot and plentiful. I feel pathetic. After that first sleepless night, I decided not to go back to school. Not for a little while. I called, pretending to be Maz, creakily explaining that Rey had a bad flu and would be out for at least a week. The administrative assistant tutted with concern on the phone. I sighed when I hung up, and I crawled back under the covers. Rose said she’d collect my homework for me.

I am a ghost, roaming around my little trailer. I drift past my coffee table where the parts of the radio I’ve been rebuilding are scattered. I peer aimlessly out the windows. I stare at the television, and when the wind knocks the outdoor antenna and the picture goes fuzzy, I don’t bother to climb on the roof to fix it. I drink a little water. I eat noodles and canned vegetables. I do the homework Rose brings by and leaves on my doorstep. I try and fail to sleep. This is the worst I’ve felt since Maz died.

“Rey, sweetie, please,” Rose coaxes on the phone on Wednesday night. “Come back. No one’s talking about what happened in Driver’s Ed, except to say that those boys were really mean to you. They were talking a lot of garbage, and everyone knows it.” Rose is such an optimist; it hurts my soul. She’s delicate in how she talks about it to me. I think someone finally filled in some details for her and Finn. I can barely handle the look in her eyes when she hands my homework to me every afternoon.

My laugh is as dry as my wrung-out heart. “So they _are_ talking about it,” I say, feeling each word tremble as it leaves my throat. “It’s just going to get worse. I just need to stay out of there as long as I can until they forget about me.”

“How long is Maz going to let you stay home?” she asks. “Isn’t she suspicious?”

“Maz doesn’t care as long as I keep my grades up.”

“Did you hear that Ben broke his hand?” Rose charges ahead with this information, despite my sound of distress. I cut her off, not wanting to hear anything else.

“I’ve got to go, Rose. Thanks for dropping off the homework. I’ll try to come back next week, I promise.”

She sighs, and we both hang up.

+++

That night, I sink into my bathtub, resting my chin on my knees. The tub is small, not nearly deep enough to really soak in, but I just haven’t got the energy to stand under the shower. I scrub strawberry-scented shampoo into my hair, and I lay back to rinse out the suds. I linger a moment, and I focus on breathing evenly, listening for my heartbeat, letting the water in my ears block out any other sound.

I close my eyes, and as my thoughts drift, they seem to pause and focus, bringing a familiar face into my mind’s eye. _Ben_. I exhale shakily and sit up, water streaming from my soggy hair over my shoulders. _Ben_.

_I’d last seen him Monday after I’d left the classroom. I’d made it past the pick-up loop, and I was already in the middle of the intersection when he came loping after me, elegant despite his size._

_“Rey!” Panic was etched on his face, but all I wanted to do was run. So I ran._

_“Rey, wait!” he called again. I am quick on my feet, and agile, but I’m no match for the long legs of Ben Solo. By the time I was across the intersection, he was behind me, and I could feel his fingertips brushing the back of my arm as he tried to grab me._

_“Let. Go,” I hissed. I swung my backpack off my shoulders, prepared to smash it against him if he tried reaching for me again._

_“Please, Rey, we can talk about this!”_

_“Talk about what? The fact that you’ve seen naked pictures of me, and you never told me? That you hang out with Hux, who is buddies with the jerk who took those pictures?”_

_Ben looks stricken. “No--that’s not how it is. Hux isn’t a friend--”_

_“Then how is it? Did you see the pictures and decide I must be as easy as they say? Is that why you pursued me?” My tears are welling again, hot and furious in my eyes, teetering before spilling over onto my face. “Am I a joke to you? Rey the tramp?”_

_“How can you think that!?” he roars at me. The way his energy changes startles me, and I freeze on the sidewalk, nearly dropping my backpack. “This is why I didn’t tell you! I didn’t even ask for the goddamn picture.”_

_He’s red-faced, and I see him stalk forward a step or two and reach for my bag. I yank it back, and retreat from him._

_“Why should I believe anything you say?” I shout, feeling my pulse throb in my neck. “You didn’t even stand up for me today. You didn’t deny anything they said. You just stood there.”_

_When Ben takes another step towards me, his eyes desperate and pleading, something in me snaps, and I swing my backpack at him, thumping him as hard as I can in the chest. He groans upon impact. I swing again, but he catches my bag and wrenches it out of my grasp._

_“You, with your sweet words and y-your kisses... Admit it’s all an act,” I snarl. “You’re playing games, and you’re so goddamn good at it, and I’m such a fucking idiot, I didn’t even notice. Why would someone like you want me?”_

_My chest is heaving, and I know my hair has escaped by buns and is flying all over the place. Something inside of me is breaking loose—all the rage and shame is boiling over, and I think I’m going to start screaming and never stop._

_Instead I walk up to him and jab my finger in his chest, making him wince as I spit, “I’m a slut from a Jakku trailer park, and I deserve to be treated like shit. Isn’t that what you all think? You and Snap and Hux and all their friends?”_

_Ben opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but something about my rage must have rendered him speechless. He just gulps like a goldfish jumped from its bowl. His fingers flex, and I can see the way his shoulders tense with stress. His eyes are so dark, I can’t read his emotions, and I’m suddenly not sure I want to anymore._

_It was so much easier before I met him. I wasn’t constantly swinging between the thrill of having this unexpected connection, this attraction, this romance and my utter terror of someone finding out about my living situation or the constant, bitter stream of insecurity and grief that permeates my thoughts._

_My shoulders sag, and as I pick up my backpack, something in me breaks, and tears start trickling down my face._

_“Just leave me alone, Ben. You’re just like the rest of them.”_

_“Goddamn it, Rey,” he mutters, and he grabs me, crushing me to his chest with an intensity that knocks the breath from my body. He feels so solid, and I’m sick with yearning to just nestle into him and hold on forever. “I’m fucking in love with you, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the picture. I didn’t know how without hurting you.”_

_For some reason, his admission makes me cry harder, each sob making my chest ache more. I fight him off, shoving my way out of his hug. “You shouldn’t love me. Big mistake, Solo.”_

_I don’t want it. I can’t have it, and it’s time to stop pretending._

_At every turn, I’ve had to lie to him and hold him apart from me. He should love a girl who can invite him into her home to meet her parents and who doesn't have people laugh meanly when she walks by. He should love a girl who didn’t fall into bed with the first guy who claimed to love her. He should love a girl whose own mother didn’t abandon her._

_I look back at him, trembling with the violence of the emotions rippling in every sinew of my body, and I see his heart crumble. His shoulders seem to lower two inches, and his face falls. This isn’t the answer he wanted. You're hurting him, my brain screams at me. Stop hurting him. If he really knew you, he wouldn’t want you, another part of my brain hisses._

_“Rey, please,” he whispers, reaching his hand for me._

_I shake my head, and I turn away from him to walk home._

I condition my hair, and I wash my face. I linger in the tub, smoothing a soapy washcloth down my arms and legs, over my breasts and torso, trying to focus on the simple task, trying to just enjoy the warmth and the sensation of being clean. I think that I care for myself this gently because I know in my gut that I’ll never let anyone else try. I go to bed glum.

+++

I spend all day Thursday and Friday preparing for my job interview at Plutt’s Repair Center. I’ve cleaned all my hand tools and electric current testers, and I’ve flipped through all the diagnostic manuals and circuit diagram guides and every odd piece of information I’ve studied over the years.

I also clean and rewire the little radio that I’d scavenged from Goodwill a couple months ago. When I found it, it was old and dusty, but I thought it had potential. I thought I could breathe some life back into it. And on Friday afternoon, after all my careful touch-up work on the circuits, I put in new batteries and switch the dial. A little squeal and static comes from the speaker, and then I hear the faint chatter of talk radio hosts. I feel something close to a smile touch my lips for the first time in days.

Plutt’s Repair Center is clear on the other side of town, in a gulch of pawn shops and junkyards and used tire stores. I know it’s not the wisest choice, or even the legal choice, but I take Maz’s car there. He wants me there at 8 a.m., after all, and I’d have to start walking at 5 a.m. to make it on time. I figure that no one’s really driving that early in the morning, and if I just drive casual, no one should stop to wonder if I’m too young. It’s not like I won’t be sixteen in just another couple months, anyway.

It’s a dump. The building is a large warehouse with rusting bay doors cranked up to let in a breeze, and there are questionably old light fixtures snapping and sizzling overhead when I walk in. I’m trying to appear as old I can, as professional as I can in my newest jeans and a button-down gray shirt. My tool kit is secured in my old, green backpack. I scan curiously for signs of life, and instead I find Unkar Plutt.

He’s flopped on a groaning office chair behind a desk in the corner of what comprises the office area of the big open room, with a giant box fan behind him blowing to circulate air. He looks like he’s going to have a heart attack at any moment, he’s so red-faced and sweaty, and it’s not even 8 a.m. When he opens his bloodshot eyes, they aren’t friendly.

“Who’re you?”

“Rey Sands? I'm here about the electronics repair job?”

He looks me up and down and snorts. “Sorry, girl. Don’t think so. Move along.”

I walk closer to his desk and stand in front of him. “I have an appointment for a working interview. I’d like to-”

“Job’s taken, kid. Get out. This isn’t a day care, and I’m not going to be liable for a kid getting hurt on the clock.”

“You literally have a Now Hiring sign posted outside on the wall,” I say, motioning behind me. I wouldn’t be so insistent, but this job was supposed to pay ten dollars an hour. Ten. This would solve so many of my problems. I wouldn’t be so close to the razor’s edge if I had this kind of money coming in.

“And what exactly is it you think you can do? Are you certified, girl? You been to tech school to learn the trade?”

I shift uneasily on my feet. “Uh, no, but I can build clocks and radios out of spare parts. I fix VCRs and phones. I’m willing to learn anything I don’t know. I’ll work hard.”

Plutt hums as he studies my face. He sees something interesting, I guess, because he points abruptly at a table covered in random junk. “You see that? Somewhere in there, there’s a stereo system. See if you can’t put it together and make it work.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice.

+++

Two hours later, I’m cleaning the exterior of the stereo. It’s a bit scuffed, but I’m buffing out the scratches. It hadn’t actually been altogether damaged—it just needed new wires that weren’t frayed. I set up the stereo and its speakers on the worktable, and I signal to Plutt that I’m done. He saunters over, hooking his fingers into the belt below his sagging belly. He eyes my work, then flips the power button. The stereo lights up. And with another few buttons punched, country music pours out of the speakers. He gives me a look of grudging acknowledgement.

“So you have some skill. Do you know how to keep your mouth shut?”

I nod my head.

He continues, “You ain’t an Army brat? This place here is off-limits to Fort Windu personnel.”

My eyes widened hearing the post was off-limits. The OL list is maintained to let soldiers and their families know which businesses were disreputable and liable to rob them blind. However, that isn't my concern. “No, Mr. Plutt, I’m not Army.”

“Do you got an employment certificate? I know a minor when I see one.”

I shake my head. That’s another tricky thing I’ve been facing—needing a guardian’s signature so I can be legally employed before the age of eighteen. I try not to forge Maz’s signature on the more serious-looking government forms when I can help it. It’s funny how few places ask for ID or any kind of verification when it comes to signatures.

For some reason, this makes Plutt grin broadly, showing a mouthful of tea and tobacco-stained teeth. “That suits. I can’t have part-time employees. Costs me too much in taxes. Would rather do an arrangement with you, pay you under the table.”

“I’m alright with that. And it’s ten dollars an hour?”

“Ten dollars an hour, and you don’t ask no questions about where we get our repair work from or where we send it.”

I gingerly hold out my hand to shake on the agreement, seeing how grimy his hand is—with food or grease or something else, I don’t even want to know. We agree that I’ll start with eight hours a week while I’m in school, and I’ll increase my hours over the summer. And as for my transportation issues, well, I’ll just have to be careful until I have my license for real. I can’t afford to wait around any longer.

+++

I wake up Sunday morning, and when I sink onto the sofa and turn on the TV, the morning news reminds me that it’s Mother’s Day. The news anchor is smiling brightly in a pastel suit, encouraging all viewers to take mom somewhere special today and let her know we care. I mostly feel numb, but when I look at the little glass cabinet containing a few of Maz’s curios and some framed pictures of the two of us, I heave a sigh and pry myself off the sofa. I can do one good thing today. I can honor Maz.

My feet scuffle through fallen pine needles and brambles. I kick a huge pinecone, and it goes skittering off through the scrubby sand into the trees. I’ve walked a few miles into the center of town where there’s a park with a small pond near the newly renovated one and two-story red brick buildings that constitute the old downtown. Downtown Jakku used to be mostly boarded up businesses, but now there were an increasing number of restaurants that attracted people from Fort Windu.

Maz used to bring me to this little park when I was a very young girl, before the rehabilitation of downtown, and we’d sit on one of the park benches, and we’d watch the ducks. Sometimes she’d buy a little bag of duck pellets at the grocery store, and we’d feed the ducks, laughing as they waddled, quacking and flapping and fighting, to gobble up what we’d throw them.

_“See how fat they’re getting? I don’t think they’ll be able to fly south for winter,” she’d laugh, elbowing me in the ribs._

_“I want them to stay here with us,” I tell her. “I don’t see why they need to leave. It doesn’t get so cold here.”_

_She strokes my hair affectionately. “They’ll come back. They always do.”_

_I throw them some more pellets, and I look up at her, concern etched on my face. “But what if they don’t?”_

_Maz just rubs my back and smiles a little sadly._

Sometimes people leave and never come back. I know this lesson too well. My father. My mother. Maz. Various childhood friends whose families PCSed, never to return. But I’m still here. I’m still holding on.

After Maz was gone, I scattered her ashes late one night when no one was around to stop me or ask questions. She didn’t want to be stuck in a jar on the mantel, she’d told me. Let her be free, someplace happy, someplace with good memories, she’d said. And so I brought her here.

The ducks squabble around my feet as I throw them a few pellets, and I smile at them faintly. The ducks do come back every year, just like Maz said. I silently ask Maz the questions I desperately need answers to.

_Should I go back to school on Monday?_

_Should I quit and get my GED instead of going back?_

_Did Ben betray me? Or does he really care?_

_Am I better off alone? Is Ben better off without me?_

_What should I do about the pictures? Or the nasty way I’m treated?_

_Should I be ashamed of myself?_

So many questions haunt me. And I haven’t got a clue how to deal with any of them. And Maz isn’t here. Not really. I just hear the quacking ducks and the distant traffic of downtown.

I’m so absorbed in my thoughts and feeding the ducks that I never notice the familiar shapes walking along the sidewalk at the edge of the park. Two tall men and one tiny woman. I never see them stop and watch me, hesitate, then continue on their way. I don’t see the way they glance back at me with frowns of concern and confusion. I don’t see them at all.

+++

Later that night, I’m curled on the couch, wrapped in the blanket Maz crocheted, and I’m cradling the phone against my ear.

Rose is ecstatic to hear that I’ve decided to declare myself recovered from the flu and return to school in the morning, and I am equally grateful when she confesses that she and Finn have asked Poe to switch out of their Driver’s Ed group so I can be with them, and he can take my spot with Ben and Hux. At least Ben and Poe get along.

“See? It’s all going to work out, Rey. We only have one more month, and then it’s summer. We’ll make it. And when school starts in the fall, this is going to feel like ancient history.”

She seems so certain, and it makes me smile ruefully. What happened last summer somehow seemed to matter almost a year later, but if she wants to believe this will be the end of it, I’m not going to stop her.

After I hang up with Rose, I stare at the phone for what seems to be a full hour before I take a shaky breath and dial a number I know by heart.

The phone rings a few times, and a slightly sleepy, husky voice answers. “Hello?”

My heart beats faster, just hearing him. I speak softly into the phone, my voice cracking with tentative hope, “Ben? It’s me...”

I hear a sudden exhale, and the sound of shifting bedding.

“C-can you talk?” I ask, my voice shaky.

There’s another long pause.

And then a dial tone.

He hung up on me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Twitter! @junkyardjeditr1
> 
> Sorry for all the angst. I promise there's a HEA in the works!


	15. stay in the closest lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Angst + Plot. Ben breaks his hand. Ben talks to Han. Ben makes a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My hand fucking hurts. I’ve been taking ibuprofen every few hours, and it just keeps aching. My fourth and fifth metacarpals are fractured, and I’ve got a hand cast to hold me steady while my bones knit back together for the next six to eight weeks. The boxer’s break.

Snap had opened his dumb mouth again in the locker room after P.E. on Wednesday.

_“Where’s Rey, Solo? I haven’t seen her hanging off your dick at lunch like usual. No one’s seen her in a couple of days, in fact. She didn’t get upset by a little good-natured teasing, did she?”_

_“She’s got the flu,” I mutter, refusing to look at him as I feel my rage coil. Rose told me Rey’s excuse, and while I don’t believe it, I’m not about to tell anyone, especially him, that she’s hiding at home, humiliated and angry. It doesn’t matter how I feel about her right now—I’m not giving him any fuel if I can help it._

_And so, knowing he’s circling, looking to draw me into some bullshit, I’m drying off after my shower, and I’m feeling the sudden urge to get the hell out this locker room as quickly as I can._

_“The flu? She seemed healthy enough to me on Monday. You sure? You been taking her soup?”_

_I just shrug, and I start pulling on my clothes. When I look up, I see Poe watching me from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge where I’m at with all this. He already told me that he’d arranged to switch driving groups, so he’d be riding with Hux and me tomorrow, in Rey’s place._

_Snap sits down next to me, a big grin on his face. I see Dakk and some others listening closely, eager for the entertainment. “C’mon now, Ben. I know what she’s like. Did she cry and whine? Did she blame you for what she did? It’s not your fault you saw those pictures.”_

_I seethe, and as soon as my shoes are laced, I stand up and grab my bag. I’m not interested in replying to him. But Snap is relentless. He stands up right after me and grabs my shoulder._

_“We tried to tell you, Solo,” he laughs. And with that, I’ve had enough. I whip around, and I shove Snap into the wall of lockers, metal doors and padlocks rattling violently. When his face darkens with rage and he lunges back at me, I slam him against the other wall of lockers. Someone grabs me from behind, and I elbow them hard in the face._

_Snap is staggering, and I lurch forward at him, and he flinches as I pull back my arm, forming a fist. I can’t hear anything besides the feral screams of my own anger. He holds up his hands defensively, and I bring my fist down as hard as I can—into the locker door right beside his head._

_The door is dented. But my bones snap._

_“Fuck!”_

_Poe is suddenly at my side, pushing through the boys who are already lunging for me, and he grabs my arm and hauls me toward the locker room door before a full brawl can break out. Somewhere behind us, Snap is calling me a pussy. Before Poe and I get too far, Coach Kestis is already roaring out of his office, and that’s that._

I spent the rest of the day in the principal’s office, and now I’m not only suspended for fighting for the rest of the week, but I’m grounded at home with no phone or internet privileges, as well. I’m not entirely sure how this week went from my amazing night in the gazebo with Rey to this absolute fucking shitshow.

+++

My dad doesn’t say much until we leave the hospital after my hand cast is complete.

He’d been silent with me all week, ever since I had slammed into the Falcon on Monday, seething with anger, and to my utter mortification, with tears streaming down my face. He’d tried to ask what had gone wrong, where was Rey, would I like to talk about it, but I’d just shrugged him off and refused to say a word. From the moment we got home, I spent every moment in my room.

Mom had tried to talk to me, too, even bringing me a pan of her brownies, knowing full well I could annihilate those in a heartbeat on a good day. But I’d had little to say to her, either. I know they were concerned, watching for the old signs from Chandrila, but I’ve been too depressed to contemplate rampaging in a destruction frenzy through Fort Windu.

But now, as Dad and I leave the hospital, he slings his arm around me and pulls me in for a tight hug. I’m taller than he is now, but that doesn’t matter. I feel the tension of three days of misery break loose, and I slump into him, and I accept his comfort.

“C’mon, kid,” he says gruffly. “It’s time you told your old man what’s going on with you.”

Dad stops by the Shoppette, and we pick up snacks and drinks before drives us out to the far edge of post which is heavily forested and has some recreation areas along the big lake.

After parking, we haul out of the car, and we sit at a picnic table facing the lake. The water glitters in the late afternoon sunlight, and I see hawks swooping overhead lazily.

“So,” my dad says, handing me a bag of chips. He twists the top off a beer and offers it to me, as well. I look at him with some surprise, and he shrugs. “I think you’re old enough to have a beer with your old man. Don’t go getting any crazy ideas now, okay?”

I smile slightly and shake my head. The bottle is cool in my hand, and I go ahead and take a sip while he watches. After a beat, I finally begin to tell him. I tell him as much as I can, anyway, and still protect Rey. I find that it’s second nature to try to keep her safe, even when I’m angry with her.

“Rey, uh… she dumped me,” I mutter. I set the beer aside and clumsily rip open the bag of chips using my good hand and my teeth.

“There’s these kids in school, they’re pretty awful to her. She was giving a presentation, and they started talking shit, and I couldn’t stop them. I just sort of… froze… and then they were saying I was basically in on it, and she got upset. And we got in a fight about it.”

Dad nods and sips his beer speculatively, holding the bottleneck between his thumb and first two fingers.

“Anyway, she thinks I’m just trying to get in her pants and that I don’t care about her, and it really fucking hurts, because it’s not true, and I hate those guys.”

I take another swig of beer, and I look at my dad, raising an eyebrow. “Well? Fatherly advice?”

He clears his throat, and he takes a long drink of beer, as if rallying himself for this moment. “I don’t know, kid. Sounds like she was pretty unfair to you. But it also sounds like she was hurting after being embarrassed in public.”

“I told her I loved her, Dad, and she said loving her was a mistake,” I look down at my hands, one looking bulky and terrible in the cast, the other normal. It hurts to say out loud, but saying it out loud helps. It relieves the pressure in my heart. Just a little.

He takes another long drink, and he leans toward me, resting his forearms on his knees. “I wasn’t there, kid, but that don’t sound right to me. Rey’s sweet on you--I can tell.”

I huff in frustration. “What kind of advice is that? She thinks I’m a bad person, after all this time.”

My dad just shrugs. “I can’t solve it for you, Ben. But what you said? It doesn’t sound like Rey. She owes you an apology, but I can’t see that girl hating you. Not really.”

I finish my beer, and I tuck the empty bottle back into the six-pack’s cardboard. “Yeah, well. We’ll see.”

The rest of the week crawls. I do my schoolwork so I don’t fall behind while suspended. I go for runs. I do the dishes and the cooking as penance for fighting in school. And when I can’t take the silence anymore, I use my good hand to attack my standing punching bag in the garage until I’m sweaty and out of breath.

+++

It’s late on Sunday night, and I’m already asleep when the phone rings. I grumble awake and groggily slap the phone off the receiver with my unbroken hand, then fumble to pick it up and press the talk button.

When I say hello, the only voice I want to hear says my name. I miss her so much my whole body aches for want of her, and I see, in a flash of memory from earlier in the day, her solitary figure standing amongst the ducks in the park downtown, looking thin and sad and disheveled in her baggy tee shirt and old jeans. 

_My parents are confused as I pull back and ask if we can go back to the car. I don’t want to run into Rey like this, under my parents’ watch, still feeling so raw. They glance between her and me and quietly agree, sensing my distress._

_“What’s she doing here alone?” my mom wonders aloud. It’s Mother’s Day, after all. We’d just been eating at an Italian restaurant to celebrate, and I’d given her flowers and a card early that morning._

_My dad takes a long look at Rey before we head back towards the Falcon. “Where’s her Aunt Maz?” he mutters._

I can hear her excuses already-- _just taking a walk_ or _detour while running an errand for Maz_ \--and I realize I _don’t_ want to hear her voice. I _can’t_ hear it. The last time I’d heard it, she’d been screaming at me, accusing me of being no better than the animals at school who treat her so nastily. I’m not ready to put aside my hurt.

Rey dated me for two months, and she tells me I am a predator whose only goal is to fuck her and humiliate her, as if she doesn’t know me at all, as if not one thing I’ve said or done has told her who I really am. And then she tells me I _shouldn’t love her_. That loving her is a _mistake_.

I can feel my heart pounding harder, and my hands shake. I don’t know what is wrong with her. I don’t know if she thinks I’m a monster or if she thinks she’s unworthy of my love.

I hear her voice again, sounding small and shaky, asking if I can talk to her, and I find that I can’t.

I hang up on her, feeling worse than I ever thought possible. When I roll over and try to sleep, I can’t.

_I can’t._

+++

I’m startled when I see Rey enter the Driver’s Ed classroom. I haven’t seen her around campus during the day, and I half-expected her to not turn up for the final classroom session of the program. But then again, I know how badly she wants this license. She’d sell her own kidney to get a license.

She walks in with Rose and Finn, looking pale, with dark circles under her lovely eyes, and she stays close behind them as they find seats on the far side of the room from me. Not because of _me_ , I tell myself. Because I sit behind Hux. Because Snap is over this way, as well. She sits along the wall, and Rose and Finn and Poe sit in the desks around hers, forming a tidy little phalanx of protection for their friend. I already know she’s not driving with Hux and me later this week. Part of me feels stung by this, but part of me also understands. Why would she want to be in a car with him? Why would she want to be in a car with me?

After we take the final road rules test, which Parnadee will score and submit to the state on our behalf, she stands up for the final rundown on what we’ll need for the drive test.

“Congratulations on not killing me, though I dare say many of you have tried. Mr. Dameron, I’m speaking of you, in particular.”

Poe’s head bobs up in surprise, and the class laughs.

“Don’t forget that for your testing day, you will need a fully operational and road legal vehicle that is insured. You will need your learner’s permit and another form of identification. You will also need your legal guardian there to sign the final paperwork. Are there any questions?”

I’m looking down at my notebook, and I hear Parnadee speak again.

“Yes, Ms. Sands?”

I look up abruptly, and I see Rey leaning forward, palms flat on her desk, her face etched with concern. “May we do the paperwork in advance?”

“As you are all under the age of 18, the state requires the physical presence of your legal guardian to sign the Driver’s Licensing forms on your behalf.”

Rey sinks back in her seat, and I see a spark of something die within her. I’m guessing it’s going to be a hardship for her to get Maz out to the DMV. But I suppose if they grocery shop together once a week, adding on a DMV trip shouldn’t be the end of the world.

There aren’t any other questions, so Parnadee dismisses us after encouraging us to, “Drive safe and drive smart.”

Now only my driving session remains, and I am free to take my driving test next week. I’m not looking forward to driving with the cast on my hand, but I figure I’ll just have my dad practice with me until there’s no problem. I still can use my fingers to some extent, after all.

As we all file out into the hallway talking drive dates, I see Rey set off quickly, backpack bouncing with her steps, and I can see she’s already made up her mind to walk home. Rose is offering to give her a lift, but Rey pauses to hug her and whisper something in her ear, and Rose frowns at her, but nods her head.

I guess Rey can feel my eyes on her, because she glances my way, and there’s such a look of longing in her hazel eyes that I am thunderstruck. The last time she’d looked at me, there’d been a yawning chaos of pain and anger, and now… now she was more like the Rey I loved.

But just as quickly, she turns away, as stubbornly determined to do things on her own as ever, and I feel a flare of frustration, and I find that I’m just as stubbornly determined to talk to her.

As I’m about to try to catch up with her, Poe catches my arm with a bright grin. “You ready for Mr. Poe’s Wild Ride on Thursday, Solo? It’s my last chance to see if I can make Parnadee’s facial expression change.”

“Can you please not kill us?” I mutter. I try to shuffle past him, deciding impulsively that I want to catch up to Rey, but he holds me back, and I realize in a flash he’s delaying me so I can’t follow Rey. I glare at him, giving him a little shove. “What the fuck, Dameron?”

He smiles sympathetically. “Give her some time to breathe, Ben. You’re not the only one with hurt feelings.”

I feel my jaw tighten as I refrain from knocking him against the wall out of spite, and I try to take a deep breath.

“And how long am I supposed to not talk to her? You don’t get to decide that for me, or for her. And besides, she owes me an apology,” I hiss.

Poe’s eyebrows raise skeptically. “Maybe she does, but today was her first day back, and I’m just asking as your friend, and as her friend--please pace yourself.”

I grunt in acknowledgment, and Poe grins, smacking my back. “There you go, sasquatch. You don’t have to use your words for me to understand.”

God, he’s awful. I would hate him if he weren’t my friend.

“So tell me. How long you in that hand cast? Like six weeks, or something? You gonna be able to drive test in that thing?”

+++

The week limps along slowly until it’s finally Friday. I feel like I’m under a gloom cloud, and people try to steer clear of me. Big and angry—not really great for socializing.

I don’t see Rey again. It’s as if she’s managed to find herself a cloak of invisibility. She’s not in her usual library spot, and I don’t see her in the cafeteria at lunch. Somedays I wonder if she ever really existed. I don’t really know what to do with myself, now that she’s not next to me at our lunch table or waving at me with a cheeky smile as she catches me in the hallway between classes.

I do occasionally see Finn and Rose, and they greet me with friendly smiles. I want to ask them a million questions, but I don’t want to make it awkward for them. She was their friend first, and I think she needs them more than I do.

Rose gives me a sudden hug today after lunch, and she looked like she wanted to tell me something, but Finn shot her a look of warning.

Late on Friday night, AIM bloops a notification, and I look up from my bed at the monitor. My parents lifted my phone and internet ban on Mother’s Day. Apparently, they’d decided that since I’d only punched a locker and not Snap’s stupid face, I’d been showing self-restraint. How right they are.

When I see who it is, I sigh.

**HuxSupreme** : Are you nursing a broken heart, Solo? Seems things have cooled between you and Sands.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Guess what I’m going to tell you.

 **HuxSupreme** : Ah yes. You’d like me to go and fuck myself.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Bingo.

 **HuxSupreme** : Isn’t it getting old, always telling me that? We could have much more interesting conversations if you weren’t so antisocial.

 **xXBenOSXx** : I always thought our conversations would be better if you weren’t such a giant asshole.

 **HuxSupreme** : Now that’s much better. So do tell me—is Sands back on the market? Did she cut you loose? Or did you have enough of her?

 **xXBenOSXx** : What is it to you?

 **HuxSupreme** : I have a curious mind. And if you’re done with her, there are people who’d like a turn.

 **xXBenOSXx** : I don’t think it works like that.

 **HuxSupreme** : Doesn’t it though?

 **xXBenOSXx** : No. And do go fuck yourself.

My hand taps on my desk, agitated, and I take a deep breath. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.

AIM bloops yet another notification, and when I see who it is, I roll my eyes.

**GlamazonGwen** : Ben, help.

 **xXBenOSXx** : What?

 **GlamazonGwen** : So, I really want to go to this party, but I want to take Poe as my date.

 **xXBenOSXx** : And you think I am the right person to ask for advice?

 **GlamazonGwen** : You’re his friend, right? You eat lunch together sometimes.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Sometimes. Look, if you want him to go with you, ask him. He’ll either say yes or no.

 **GlamazonGwen** : You really know how to build a girl’s confidence, Solo.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Oh, did you notice my resume? Ben Solo, ladies’ man.

 **GlamazonGwen** : Har har har.

More AIM bloops. They fire off quickly, the sender too anxious to wait for a reply.

**ImPOEssible** : SOLO. Why is Gwen Phasma IMing me?

 **ImPOEssible** : She’s mentioning going to a party.

 **ImPOEssible** : OMG. Please help.

 **ImPOEssible** : SOLO, please!

At that point, I decide to log off AIM. I’ve got bigger things to think about. Poe can either date Gwen or not, and it is 100% not my concern.

The big issue is that Hux is still being a concerning piece of shit. Sometimes I think he won’t stop taunting me about Rey until I beat the shit out of him. It’d be satisfying, but not productive. And it wouldn’t stop everyone else from their endless bullshit.

I kick my legs up on my desk with a sigh. Rey. God, I’m still so fucking mad at her. She owes me an apology. I know she does. Just thinking of her is like sandpaper scouring my heart. But that _look_ she gave me after Driver’s Ed...

I can see that she’s struggling. She hadn’t looked well in Driver’s Ed--she may as well have had the flu, for how wan she seemed.

I feel a pang of sympathy for her, a light pulse of something that dances between sorrow and affection. Maybe my dad is right. Maybe she doesn’t really think I’m a monster. Maybe she’s like me—when her emotions get too big, she loses control and just wants to destroy everything in her path. Even me. Even herself.

I do know there’s one true thing in all of this—what Hux and Snap have been doing to her is wrong. Nothing will ever change that. And she deserves retribution. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of me.

As long as I’m fighting for her, I know I’m on the right path. No matter what.

My fingers brush against a diskette, and I pick it up, twirling it between my fingers. I tap it against my desk thoughtfully. These diskettes are everywhere at school. Every student is required to carry at least one diskette just in case class assignments take us to a computer lab and we need to save our work. And of course, that includes everyone on the list I compiled from Hux’s computer.

I tap the diskette again, and I smile to myself.

I have a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoppette: Basically, this is what the convenience stores on a military post are called. They’re part of the AAFES/Post Exchange/PX system, which is the resource for shopping on a US military installation. 
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me this chapter. I had to do some heavy plot-lifting to get the story from Point A to Point B. At any rate, hold tight--there are big reveals coming in the next chapter (which is already written--I'm just letting it sit a minute before I do a final edit)! Stay tuned! 
> 
> Find me on Twitter @junkyardjeditr1


	16. three-point turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Rey starts at Plutt’s. Some of Rey’s secrets are revealed (to the reader). Sassy Rey makes a comeback. Rey receives a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read End Notes for CONTENT WARNING.

The remaining weeks of the school year pass in a blur of classes, tests, homework, and hours spent at Plutt’s or alone in my trailer.

It was only supposed to be 8 hours a week until school ended, but Plutt says he won’t pay me unless I finish the repairs he’s put out for me to do, so the hours are already creeping up steadily. 10 hours the first week. 12 hours the second week. By the time I get home, my hands are cramping from the small tools, and I’ve got little soldering burns all over my fingers.

Plutt hasn’t paid me yet—he says he’ll give me cash on the first of the month, and until then, I work under his watchful eye. He has a lot of rules around his place.

Don’t talk to the delivery or pickup guys.

Don’t give out my name.

Don’t tell anyone I even work here, in fact.

Don’t ask questions. Ever.

Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

What I’m expected to _do_ is come in, head straight back to the work tables, and start cleaning up and repairing the stereo systems and VCRs and CD players that are stacked high. When I’m done, I use a small, steel file to wear away the serial numbers. Not everything that comes through his place is broken or damaged, and all I have to do with those pieces is file away the serial numbers before Plutt has the pickup crew put them back on the trucks.

I think I know what’s going on here, but I’m not stupid enough to ask questions. He’s the only person in Jakku who’s going to pay a fifteen-year-old girl ten bucks an hour without demanding the appropriate legal documentation, and we both know it. And I like that he never asks me any questions about myself. He neither knows nor cares that I’m driving there illegally. It’s a strangely compatible work relationship.

At school, from Poe, I hear Ben passed his drive test, even with the cast on his hand. I’m not really surprised. Curiosity had finally gotten the better of me, and I’d asked Poe what happened to his hand, but Poe wouldn’t tell me, saying it was just a dumb fight. I wish I could congratulate Ben on getting his license, but I think of the last time I called him, and I remind myself that he doesn’t want to talk to me. _With good reason,_ I think. I hadn’t exactly been kind in our last conversation.

It’s better this way, I reassure myself. So much better. He doesn’t need me.

+++

“Rey, please. Pleeeease. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease,” Rose whines, falling to her knees in front of me, hands clasped in supplication. “I’m begging you. Just be a normal person and come to Zorii’s party next week. Everyone is going, and you should go, too. I swear it’ll be fun.”

“Get UP,” I hiss at her, not liking the way people are looking at us in the hallway outside the Yearbook room. “I’m not going, and that’s final. Maz won’t like it, and anyway, I have work in the morning.”

“So don’t tell Maz!” she exclaims, getting up and dusting off the knees of her jeans. “Tell her you’re spending the night at my house, which will be true, aaaaanyway, so you won’t be lying!”

I huff a frustrated breath. Rose has been after me all week, whittling me down to a nub over this party bullshit. The last thing I want to do after this awful school year is “celebrate” with my classmates on the last day of school. Maybe I’ll feel different next week, but I doubt it.

“Why would you even want me there?” I finally say, my voice plaintive. “I haven’t been any fun for weeks, and the future forecast doesn’t look promising, either. I officially hate fun. Fun is bad. Fun is for other people.”

She gives me a compassionate look, then leans in, whispering, “That’s why you need to come to this party. We’re going to cap off the year and put all this bullshit to rest. Zorii’s house has a swimming pool. Her parents are going to be out of town. And there will be plenty of booze.”

I make some grumbling noises and cross my arms over my chest. “Who’s going to be there? Because a lack of adult supervision isn’t going to make some of our asshole classmates any nicer.”

“Probably half the sophomore class and who knows who else! Does it matter? Even if there are some jerks there, there will be plenty of cool people. Just let go, Rey. Be irresponsible for one night.”

“Being irresponsible didn’t do me much good last summer,” I mutter darkly. I’ve told Rose. She knows everything now--about Snap, at least--and she mothers me worse than ever. Rose had been so angry, that she, who has never said a hateful thing in her life, swore she’d fight them all for me, and as for Snap _—“I’ll kick him in the balls when he’s not looking!”_

Oh my god. Would _he_ be there? Rose is fucking insane if she thinks I want to go any party he’ll be at.

Rose sighs and smooths my hair back from my face. “No more hiding from the world, Rey. You’re going. I called Paige, and she said you can wear anything you want from her closet.”

I groan. If she’s already called her sister at college to convince her to lend me clothes, I know any further resistance is futile. “This is a really bad idea. I hope you know this.”

“I can’t wait to tell Finn and Poe you’re going! Maybe I can convince Ben to go!”

Just hearing his name makes my pulse race, and I glare at her.

“…You know kidnapping IS a crime, right? Because that’s what it’s going to take for me to be there.”

I’m uneasy with how comfortable Rose seems with that idea. I wonder if Finn knows how sweetly nefarious his girlfriend is. Scratch that. He knows, and he’s complicit.

+++

I’ve only seen glimpses of Ben since that last awful day of Driver’s Ed. I see him turn a corner in the hallway or duck into a classroom at least once a day, but I make myself scarce, and I try not to draw his attention. Still, when I see him, a head taller than the majority of our classmates, my heart jumps a little. I can see he got a haircut, and his ears poke out endearingly, though I know he’s probably not happy about that. He smiles easily when people talk to him, seeming calmer than he did months ago when we first met. I wonder if he’s happy.

Finn, Poe, and Rose are preoccupied with yearbook sales and distribution now that it’s the next-to-last week of school, and I’m suddenly on my own for lunch. I figure if I can quickly grab my tray and motor through the food, I can escape to the library. That’s the plan, anyway.

After collecting my lunch, I sit down and stare at the tray’s contents. Half a canned pear, a cup of mixed vegetables, some mashed potatoes covered with waxy brown gravy, and a breaded chicken patty are the day’s culinary treat, and I dig in with gusto. I don’t have much left at home, but with the promise of finally being paid this weekend for my first three weeks of work at Plutt’s, I know I’ll get to go grocery shopping for more than just the bare essentials. No ramen this week. Maybe I’ll buy some boxes of spaghetti noodles and some jars of sauce. That sounds like a nice change.

I’m thinking about my shopping list when a thick yearbook slams onto the table next to me, and I look up, startled, to see Snap and Hux taking a seat on either side of me. I can feel the muscles in the back of my neck knot up instinctively, and I try to keep my face as blank as possible.

“Wanna sign my yearbook, Rey?” Snap asks me, his eyes flicking over my face and down at my lunch tray.

I roll my eyes at him. “No, thanks.”

Hux snorts. “That’s not very nice, Rey. It’s been a memorable year, don’t you think?”

I can’t help myself. I snort, and I turn to look at the tall, red-haired boy. He’d be handsome if his face weren’t always so twisted with meanness. “Oh, yes. It’s been wonderful. Getting to know you has been such a gift, Hux.”

Snap leans closer to me, and his smug look expands into something vile. “I thought I’d asked you to be friendlier, Rey. That includes Hux, here.”

“You’re one to talk,” I mutter, folding my napkin and putting it on my tray with brisk, tight movements. I am gritting my teeth as I speak, and I’m suddenly no longer hungry for my lunch. “You’re the biggest jerk I know. I was pretty stupid to ever think you were nice.”

He looks non-plussed by my words. He really doesn’t care. But I suppose I’ve known that for a while. I think back to the summer before, when I’d been working in the dusty backroom of his father’s store, Wexley Army Surplus, when he’d seemed so nice. He’d hang out as I swept and mopped the floors, sorted and sized helmets, stacked and inventoried kevlar vests, and inspected old combat boots to see if they were worth putting in the showroom. I’d been there since I was thirteen, but last year was the first time Snap had noticed me, even though we’d always gone to school together.

_“Well, hey there, Rey.” Snap’s voice was light, charming. “Don’t work too hard, huh? Let me carry that for you.”_

_He always seemed to be around that summer, a full year after Maz had died, and he was always lingering where I was working, telling me silly jokes or slightly boasting stories about playing sports at school, sometimes bringing me a Coke or a piece of candy._

_One day, he took my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing my knuckles with a teasing, gallant flourish to make me laugh, and my heart constricted. Not one person had touched me since Maz had died, and he was so attentive, and I was starving for something. Anything. I started brightening whenever he sauntered through the door. When his dad wasn’t looking, he started pressing kisses against my neck and squeezing his hands around my waist, pulling my body tight against his._

Yes, Snap Wexley had been very sweet. And I’d believed every sugary word he’d said to me.

“I’m plenty nice,” he says, resting his elbow on the table and putting his free hand on the back of my chair, curling his lips back into what he might think is a genial smile. I just see a hyena. I lean forward so his fingers don’t touch my back. “I’ve decided to forgive you for getting me in trouble with my dad.”

“Oh wow. That’s so great, Snap,” I reply, my tone caustic, nearly a year of rage burning inside of me. “Should I celebrate?”

Snap’s smile just brightens, his eyes crinkling like I’ve said something funny. “Solo’s not interested in you anymore, so I figured you’d want a friend. Or two. We always had a good time, didn’t we? And Hux would like to get to know you better.”

I feel a rise of bile in my throat, and I glare between Hux and Snap. Get to know me? A good time?

_I’d never been kissed before. And I was so lonely. And he said I was beautiful. And that he loved me._

_When he whispered in my ear that his parents were going to be gone for the day, and that we could hang out at his house, I agreed. We sat on the couch in his living room, watching music videos on MTV, but it wasn’t long before he pulled me off the couch and down the hallway to his room._

_“C’mon, Rey...” he whispered in my ear. “I think about you all the time. Don’t you feel the same way?”_

_I hesitated, but I let him draw me into his bed. He kissed me and pawed at my breasts. Barely any time seemed to pass before I felt him between my legs, hurriedly rolling on a condom before shoving himself into me._

_I yelped in pain as I felt something inside me tear, but he only grunted in reply as he heaved on top of me for a few minutes before shuddering and collapsing heavily. He loves me, I reminded myself as I stared dazedly at the ceiling._

“I don’t think so,” I say crisply, beginning to stand up. My heart’s beginning to pound, and not in a good way. I need to get out of here before this gets worse. I can feel a trickle of sweat drip down my spine.

“Sit down, Free Lunch. I don’t think the taxpayers want you to waste the food they’re paying for,” Snap says, the smile evaporating from his face. “I think you’re forgetting that I have something embarrassing of yours.”

I lean towards him, and even though I can practically hear the way the blood is rushing through my veins, I just smile at him blandly. “How could I forget? You’ve made me pretty famous this year, haven’t you? What exactly do you want from me, Snap?”

Those goddamn pictures. I want to gouge the eyes out of Snap’s stupid face then feed them to Hux.

_He asked me over to his house two more times. The sex hurt less, but I would still bleed a little afterwards. The last time, he told me he was going to get me a glass of water. I stayed curled in his bed until I heard him out in the hallway, and I sat up, easing my legs over the side of the bed. As the door swung open, I looked up, only to startle as a camera flash went off in my face. I instinctively jerked back against the pillows, too surprised to even try to cover myself, and he took another picture. Then another._

_“That’s going to be a good one. Come on, move your hands,” he said, laughing when I finally have the wherewithal to try to cover myself. “Don’t worry. This is just for me.”_

_I started pulling on my clothes, upset, but he stopped me. He told me I’m beautiful, and that’s why he wanted pictures of me. I made him promise not to show anyone, and he was so very solemn, agreeing that this was our secret as he pushed me back into bed, covering my body with his own._

“What do you think they’re worth, Sands? What would you do to get them from me?”

I feel such a flash of rage at this, nuclear in its intensity, it’s amazing that the cafeteria isn’t leveled in a chaotic blast. And I realize then, I’m done being frightened of what he’ll say and do. So done.

Hux laughs slightly, “We could probably work something out with you. Give a little, get a little, you know?”

Snap curls his hand around my wrist. “Come on. You don’t need to pretend to be such a prude.”

I look down at his hand, and without thinking, with my free hand, I curl my fingers around the edge of my plastic lunch try, tugging it towards me. I can feel my arm shaking. I know what I’m going to do. I’ve been wanting to do this an achingly long time.

“You should let go of me.”

Before Snap can say anything, I grab the tray and awkwardly dump it on him, the greasy chicken and lumpy gravy spattering on his shirt and pants, the mixed vegetables mashing in with the potatoes. He quickly lets go of me and lurches backward, swearing at me and nearly knocking himself backward out of his chair, while I grab my backpack.

“You fucking bitch!” I hear him shout, and I flip him off with one hand. Then with my other hand, too. _Why not_? _Go for broke, Sands_ , I think.

I can hear at least half the cafeteria clatter then fall silent as the students watch our altercation, stunned. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gwen Phasma’s eyes, round as saucers, her mouth hanging open. I can’t tell if she’s appalled or impressed with me, and I absolutely do not care, either way.

The teachers on duty shout for me to stop as I flee toward the doors, but I’m only picking up speed. _Shouldn’t have done that_ , I think. _Big mistake_ , I think. I’m panicking. I don’t regret dumping my lunch on Snap, but I do regret that this could warrant a trip to the office or a phone call home… And I’d always sworn to myself that I’d never give anyone a reason to do that. _Too risky. Shit. Shit. Fuuuuck_.

When I make it out into the atrium outside the cafeteria, I’m no longer paying close attention to where I’m going. I’m looking over my shoulder, because I know at least one of the teachers is going to try to run me down so I can be properly punished.

I should be looking where I’m going, because while I’m looking behind me, I slam into a brick wall. Hard. I’m bouncing off said wall, and about to fall backwards, when the wall’s arms reach out and grab me, catching me and hauling me upright.

But I’m not looking at a wall. I’m looking at a chest. I look up, and I see Ben Solo staring at me, his plush lips parted as he’s about to say something, the look on his face so intense that he seems to be reading my thoughts, or at least trying. If he could, he’d read a great deal of regret, but in this moment, I think he’d be pleased that I’d finally started fighting at least one of my demons. I feel a distinct urge to wrap my arms around him, but I hold myself back.

“Ben!” I hate how exhilarated my voice sounds, but it can’t be helped.

“What’s going—”

Ben’s question is cut off as a school administrator comes barreling down the hallway, walkie-talkie in hand as her heels click-clack on the tile floor.

The walkie-talkie hisses as she speaks into it. “Found her.”

She looks at me sternly, and then she motions with her hand that I should follow her. _Right now_ seems to be the implication, as well. I look back at Ben, and I impulsively reach to squeeze his good hand with my own, needing to feel the warmth of his skin, before following the administrator to my fate.

+++

I serve my penance in detention on both Wednesday and Thursday—one session for dumping my tray on Snap, and another for running from the lunch monitor. After the administrator hands me over to the guidance counselor, he tries calling Maz at home, and I sit in the office for an interminable amount of time, before I finally convince him that Maz is at a doctor’s appointment, and that I’ll get her to sign the notice the school is sending home with me.

It’s a first offense, and when I tell him that Snap had mocked my free lunch status, he’s all sympathy. I don’t know what Snap told them about my reasons for freaking out, but I guess my story seems more honest. Snap’s not the kind of person who tells the truth, after all.

_Two days after Snap takes those pictures of me, I lose my job at his father’s store._

_Tears streamed down my face as his father shouted at me, accusing me of stealing from the cash register. He says he noticed money missing over the last few weeks, and that Snap told him he saw me take the money._

_I stared at Mr. Wexley in shock, and I shook my head frantically, looking between him and Snap._

_“No, sir, Mr. Wexley… I would n-never!” I cried. “I’m not a thief.”_

_He glared at me, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re going to have to go, missy. You’re lucky I don’t call your aunt and tell her what you’re doing. Let this be a lesson to you.”_

_I gave Snap a horrified look, and I saw him behind his father, his face impassive. I realized then where the money must have been going. Whenever he’d been lingering around me, he’d also been lingering around the register. The little treats he’d been so generous with had been purchased with the stolen money._

_“Snap! You know I didn’t steal anything,” I said before Mr. Wexley took me by the upper arm and began hauling me to the front of his store. “Snap, please! Why are you doing this to me? Snap!”_

_Snap just shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Snap!” I wail, the pain of his betrayal making me shake. “You said you loved me! Why are you lying?”_

_Mr. Wexley let go of my arm and whirled around to glare at his son. “You fucking kidding me, Snap? Another one? How many little girls you telling stories to?”_

_I think I felt myself crumble a little more at that moment. Another one?_

_Mr. Wexley’s face was rage red as he seemed to figure out what I’d already processed—his son was throwing me under the bus to save his own skin. With as much calmness as he had left, he turned to me and gritted out an apology. It was clear, however, that returning to Wexley Army Surplus was not an option._

In Snap’s mind, it’s my fault his father got angry and punished him. In Snap’s mind, I should have quietly taken the blame. In his mind, I was the traitor. He hadn’t calculated that I wouldn’t just accept the accusation, and I’d been paying for it ever since.

But that was then.

Now I just need to make it another two school years without needing the office to call my home for any reason. And maybe-- _no_ , _definitely_ \--I need to find a way to shut Snap up for good. I’m through having him hold those pictures over my head and always getting the last word.

+++

After my final detention on Thursday, Finn and Rose and Poe pick me up from school, and Finn drives us across town in his old Nissan Z to take up space at the mall food court. He’d just passed his drive test, and he was excited to show off his skills in the car he’d inherited from his older brother.

“Peanut, I feel like times are changing. Everyone’s talking about you dumping your tray on that asshole, and I think you’ve scored some fans,” Finn tells me with a broad laugh. He’s been treating me like a war hero since the cafeteria incident.

Rose cuts in, turning around from the front passenger seat to grin at me. “I told Ben about it. I could have sworn he almost smiled. He just sort of snorted, like he wasn’t trying to laugh.”

Poe does laugh, his guffaws as exuberant as ever, lounging casually, his hands tucked behind his head. “I think in sasquatch culture, that counts as enthusiastic approval.”

I roll my eyes at Poe’s proclamation, and I try to keep my smile to myself. Part of me had hoped Ben would hear about it and approve. I still need to muster up the courage to talk to him again. To apologize and explain. Right now, my heart still feels too bruised. I need to be stronger, first. Soon, though, I reassure myself.

Poe catches it, though, my smile, and he leans forward enthusiastically. “What? Are we smiling when we talk about Ben Solo now? SANDS, are you back in the hunt for cryptid love?”

Rose practically screams in excitement in the front seat. “Reeeey! I’ve been begging you to talk to him again!”

I groan, and I double-over, face in hands. “I’m _begging_ you, Rose. Please, let me do things my way.”

“But Rey… your way takes too long. My methods guarantee results,” she declares.

Finn glances at me through the rearview window, quirking an eyebrow. “She’s not wrong, Rey.”

And of course, Poe just laughs.

At the mall, Rose and I split an Auntie Em’s pretzel, and Finn and Poe proceed to attack an aggressively large Cinnabon that is covered in a primordial ooze of frosting and pecans.

When we’d all sat down, Poe had hauled my arm in the air like I’d just won a prizefight, belting out We Will Rock You until the mall cops glared at us.

_“You got mud on your face, you big disgrace_

_Kicking your can all over the place, singin'_

_We will, we will rock you_

_We will, we will rock you.”_

I laugh along with them, feeling elated, even though I know this won’t be the end of it with Snap or Hux. But at this point, I’m not sure how deeply I care. I’ve already made it through this whole damn school year. And maybe Rose is right—maybe I do need to take back my right to have fun. Maybe it’s time I fought back a little, even if only in small ways.

“Hey, Rose?” I suddenly ask, pulling my arm free of Poe’s grasp and playfully pushing him away from me. “Who all is going to be at that party next week? Because… I kind of have an idea about something, and I’m going to need your help.”

Rose’s eyes brighten at the note of intrigue in my voice, and she props her chin in her hand. “Listening!” she declares pertly.

I glance at Poe and Finn, who immediately look like they’re about to be given the quest of a lifetime. Poe’s eyes are already glazing over with thoughts of adventure, but Finn is focused, his irrespressible grin lighting up his face. I get the sense they’ve been waiting a long time this moment.

I quickly offer that no one _has_ to help me, but Finn cuts me off. “Whatever it is, you’re not doing it alone. You have friends.”

Well, okay then. I feel a slow smile spread across my face, and I lean my forearms on the table and I begin to sketch out my idea.

+++

I trudge home from the bus stop after school on Friday, and it’s hot and miserable, but at least my backpack is light. My final papers and projects have been turned in, and there’s only one more test tomorrow, and that’s pretty much it for the year. Next week is the last week, and I anticipate lots of movie-viewing and watching people sign each other’s yearbooks, with the occasional last-minute presentation taking place. And the party. I grin a little to myself, and my feet feel lighter.

 _Thank fucking god_ this school year is finally over. I can finally focus on getting to work and squirrelling away as much money as possible, and I’ve got six weeks to figure out how I can get around the legal guardian signature issue for my driver’s license. _I can do this_ , I mutter under my breath. I’ll figure something out.

Bigger in my mind, is knowing that I get paid on Sunday, and I’m expecting at least $300 from Plutt. I won’t be tucking it all into savings this time around—there are things I need to buy for my plan to go off. It’s worth a couple weeks of groceries, as far as I’m concerned. What’s a little hunger when I can potentially shut Snap and Hux up forever?

When I get to the door of my trailer, I notice an unmarked envelope taped to the door. I groan, remembering the last time this had happened, I’d endured a $50 lot rental hike. But when I peel it off, I feel something solid inside.

I turn and sit on the front step, dumping my backpack carelessly on the ground. It can’t get any older or dirtier, I figure. I palpate the envelope for a second, then I slip it open and tap the contents out into my palm.

There’s a small metal disk attached to a little ring. A key chain. The disk is enamel on one side, with an Apollo 13 logo. The other side is the brass backing, and I rub my thumb over its smooth texture, and I read the engraved message.

_Failure is not an option._

My breath catches in my throat, and I curl my hand around the key chain, and I enjoy its cool weight, it’s smooth, circular shape against my palm. I sniffle, slightly, fighting back tears as I look down, opening my hand and cradling it in my palm as if it’s the most precious thing I’ve ever held.

I have so many things I need to do to survive. Some days I feel like I’m running on pure determination alone.

 _Failure is not an option_.

Only one person would think to give this to me.

Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> There is a depiction of Rey having sex with someone who is not Ben. You can stop reading after the sentence beginning with: “I feel a rise of bile in my throat…” and you can resume with the sentence beginning with: “I don’t think so…”
> 
> Regular End Notes:  
> We’re back on the lovebird reunion train, kids! Next chapter will have some comfort food for you.
> 
> Sorry if you are traumatized by the thought of Rey having sex with anyone but Ben. As far as Snap’s prowess, let’s just say he’s never heard of a WAP. He is the Ben Shapiro of Jakku High School. Rey will have a MUCH better time with Ben.
> 
> I can be found roaming Twitter like a feral cat: @junkyardjeditr1


	17. ten and two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. AIM conversations with Poe, Hux, and Gwen. Reconciliation with a certain feral tri-bunned girl. Lots of feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Friday night, I’m hunched over my computer, formatting and loading files onto diskettes. Dad is downstairs making dinner, trying his hand at stir-fry, and mom’s stuck overseeing a field exercise and won’t be home for at least another day.

My AIM notifications start popping up in a frenzy of bloops and chirps, and I sigh, pausing what I’m doing.

**ImPOEssible** : You going to that party at Zorii’s house?

 **xXBenOSXx** : Nope.

 **ImPOEssible** : Wrong answer, buddy. You’re going.

 **xXBenOSXx** : I just said I’m NOT going.

 **ImPOEssible** : Just hypothetically, how comfortable are you driving with that hand cast? Are you good in case we all need a getaway driver?

 **xXBenOSXx** : Maybe get someone with two hands who can drive. Also, I’m not going to that party.

 **ImPOEssible** : Sure you are. You’re telling me that you don’t want to celebrate the start of the summer before your senior year?

 **xXBenOSXx** : Correct.

 **ImPOEssible** : What would it take to get you to that party? What if I told you Rose Tico was kidnapping a certain cute brunette and forcing her to go?

 **xXBenOSXx** : So am I driving a getaway car, or am I mitigating a hostage scenario?

 **ImPOEssible** : Yes.

I groan. Poe Dameron really is the most enthusiastically exasperating person on the planet.

I’ve followed his advice to leave Rey be over this last month, and it’s only made me lonely. Seeing him suggest so easily that I should try to see her at some party? I feel a flash of resentment, but I try to exhale. He wasn’t wrong that Rey and I needed space. I still feel bruised, but no longer raw. It’s not easy, but it’s easier.

It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been thinking of her nonstop since… well, since February, honestly, but my brain has doubled down since I saw her on Tuesday, running out of the cafeteria like the hounds of hell were nipping at her ankles, wild-eyed, hair disheveled, and two bright spots of pink on her cheeks. Rose had cornered me the following day when I went to pick up my Yearbook, pulling me aside to tell me what had happened in the cafeteria.

I can still feel the way Rey had touched my hand before being escorted to the office, her little fingers pressing tight against mine, leaving me with a lasting impression of affection and regret.

And so, I’d mustered up the nerve to leave her the keychain I’d bought for her in Florida. The original plan had been to give it to her when Driver’s Ed finished. I taped an unmarked envelope to the front door of her trailer and bolted before she came home and found me there.

I can hear the media now.

_“Ben Solo, how did it feel when President Clinton put the Presidential Medal of Bravery around your neck?”_

_“Oh, it was an honor. My decision to not even knock on the door or leave a note is one of the proudest moments of my life. I definitely wouldn’t want the girl I love to have any idea that I still care.”_

_“Your story will inspire generations, Mr. Solo.”_

I am a paragon of bravery.

I hear another bloop from AIM.

**HuxSupreme** : Hey. Thanks for your work on the history project. Didn’t say before.

 **xXBenOSXx** : No prob.

 **HuxSupreme** : You going to Zorii’s party next week?

 **xXBenOSXx** : Haven’t decided.

 **HuxSupreme** : Pool party. Girls in bathing suits. This shouldn’t be a difficult decision.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Is that your only criteria?

 **HuxSupreme** : Yes?

Ugh. This fucking guy. 

AIM again. More chirps and bloops.

**GlamazonGwen** : Can you confirm if Poe will be at Zorii’s party?

 **xXBenOSXx** : What did he tell you?

 **GlamazonGwen** : When I asked him, he said he could hear someone shouting his name and ran away.

 **xXBenOSXx** : He will definitely be there.

Before anyone else can message me, I log off. There’s something in the drinking water in Jakku, I decide. I’m positive in ten years, scientists will reveal that Jakku is part of a massive experiment involving a population forced to ingest psychotropics to see how they react over time.

My phone rings, and I figure it’s my mom. Usually by this time, she’s able to retreat to her tent and check up on Dad and me, curious as always to see if we’ve killed each other yet. She really needs to have more faith in us. We only got into ten arguments today.

I lean my chair back so I can snag my cordless phone off its dock and press the talk button. I don’t waste a second, and I start talking, hoping to head off any questions before she gets a chance to ask them.

“Mom, seriously, we’re fine. But Dad bought a wok at the P/X today, and I might go hungry if this is going to go the way I think it is.”

But there’s silent on the other end, then light laughter. It’s her. _Rey_. I fumble with the phone, and as I do so, I lean back too far, and I find myself plummeting backwards onto the floor with a crash, chair and all.

She got the envelope. The keychain. I feel my heart speed up.

“Ben!? Are you alright? Did you fall down?” Her laughter has faded, and now I can hear concern in her voice.

“Um, sort of. Chair tipped over,” I groan, rolling sideways out of it. “I’m fine. We’re all fine here. How are you?” I get up and sit on the edge of my bed.

I hadn’t thought this far ahead. _Of_ _course,_ she would have known who would leave her a keychain like that. I’m such an idiot.

“Oh, um, I’m fine. No more detention. I’m sure you know about that,” she said breathily, as if she just couldn’t get enough air in her lungs while talking to me.

“I heard from Rose. Good job, Rey,” I say with a laugh, looking down at my feet and trying to even out my breathing. Didn’t seem we were doing so well like this. It has been more than three weeks since we last spoke—well, _fought_. Literally slamming into her in the atrium doesn’t really count.

“I wanted to thank you for the keychain. You didn’t leave a note, but I know it had to have been you, Ben,” she says softly, and I close my eyes picturing her face. “It’s perfect. I love it.”

“I bought it in Florida—I wanted to give it to you when Driver’s Ed finished. I thought… well, you’re so determined about _everything_. Taking care of your aunt, working so much for your pocket money, doing your school work, learning to drive—you never quit.”

There’s a pause, then I hear Rey take a shaky breath, and I realize she must be crying or close to it on the other end. “I don’t know why you’re so nice to me after what I said to you,” she finally whispers.

I can hear her heart in her words, and I bite my lip before speaking. But I need to say it. I need her to know how I felt that day. “It really hurt my feelings, Rey. I… I really liked you.”

She takes a pained breath. Fuck. I realize I had spoken past tense. I didn’t mean that.

“No, Rey… I still… um…” I groan from the nuclear levels agony that are radiating through my body over how inarticulate I’m becoming. “Can we not have this conversation over the phone? Let me come get you.”

“What?” she seems to startle out of her misery.

“Can I come get you? We can… I don’t know. We can go for a drive. We can talk. Something.”

I feel confident… slightly. I want to talk to her. Face to face. Like adults. Like adults say we’re supposed to, anyway. At that thought, I can feel my spine strengthen and my shoulders square. I’m going to go to her and be direct and not be awkward. Okay, two of those things will happen. Awkward is a given.

“O-okay. Yes.”

There’s a pause, and this time her voice sounds a little more resolute.

“Yes, come get me.”

+++

I apologize to my dad as I bound down the stairs, shouting to him that I’m going out.

“It’s a school night!” he shouts, and I grab the keys from the table in our foyer.

“I know, Dad. Homework’s done, I promise. I just… I’m gonna go see Rey. We’re… I don’t know. Wish me luck?”

“Good luck, Ben.” Dad just smiles and shakes his head, muttering about crazy teenagers as he putters back into the kitchen to torch more vegetables in his wok.

Rey bounds out of her trailer when the wheels of the Jeep Wagoneer crunch over the gravel drive. She looks flushed and flustered, with little flyaway hairs straggling out of her buns. Her baggy tee shirt is endearingly rumpled, and she’s wearing little khaki shorts that show off her coltish legs.

“You’re driving your mom’s car now?” she says with a shy smile, climbing into the passenger side of the Wagoneer.

I nod and return the smile, feeling strangely relieved to have her with me again. “Let’s get burgers and go park somewhere.”

I take us through the Wendy’s drive thru, and then I drive the car to the edge of town where the sand pines grow dense and the dirt roads wind down towards the river. People usually come out here to neck, and it’s certainly secluded enough for that.

Rey passes me my burger from the greasy paper bag before retrieving her own. She’d protested that she could pay for her own burger, but I just rolled my eyes at her, making her sulk in the passenger seat. As we sort through our food, all is silent between us, and I stare at the dense forest beyond our car, and I think I can hear the rushing water of the river. It’s rained recently, and the water level must be high.

“So… who talks first? Do I talk first? Do you talk first?” she asks, her voice anxious even as she tries to tease me, eyeing me before taking a big bite out of her burger.

I laugh a little, and I shift on my seat to face her better. “I want to go first… I want to clear up the picture thing. I want you to know the truth.”

I tell her how it happened that I saw the picture. How I deleted it. And how I’d tried to block it from memory. And above all, I told her that it had disturbed me because she hadn’t looked like she wanted her picture taken.

“You’re right. He did it without asking,” she replies, her expression clouded.

“I promise you, I didn’t ask you out because of the picture. Everyone seemed so eager to tell me what kind of girl you are, but I ignored them. You know what I saw when I looked at you? A girl who is happy and playful when she feels safe among friends. And when I got closer, I saw how smart and determined and sweet you are. I like you for _you_ , Rey.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, though? That you’d seen the picture? That you _knew_ so much more than you let on?” her voice is soft, and her eyes shimmer slightly. “I was always wondering, and it made me so nervous.”

“Because. You seemed… fragile. I didn’t want to bring up things that hurt you. I just wanted it to be you and me, without the complications… I wanted you to feel safe with me, I guess.”

She closes her eyes and leans her head against the seat as if she’s in pain, her pretty features tight with distress.

When she opens her eyes, her expression is soft and sad. “And I did feel safe with you—I haven’t felt…” she drifts off suddenly, looking at her hands before continuing to speak.

“That’s why it hurt so much. Standing there, in front of everybody, and to hear it was all a lie… I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t _breathe_ ,” she says in a sorrowful voice. Rey reaches her hand out to me. 

Her hand is small and cold in mine, and I twine our fingers together. I can feel the callouses on her fingers from the hard work she does for Teedo.

“You don’t know what fall semester was like. I was mocked constantly. Boys would walk up to me and ask me to _do things_ with them. Some of them even offered _money_. It was so degrading. So that day in Driver’s Ed, I just… I lost it. It suddenly felt so obvious that you couldn’t possibly really like me. You’re you, and I’m… I’m a nobody.”

“You’re not nobody,” I insist, my heart collapsing on itself, crumbling into dust, feeling her pain as acutely as my own, hating those boys who’d made her feel small. “Not to me.”

I see a tear leave the corner of her eye, and I reach to wipe it from her cheek. “I’d never hurt you. Never.”

She sniffles and ducks her head, embarrassed to meet my gaze. “I know. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me for what I said? I was just so upset, and…”

I cup her cheek, and I tilt her face up so I can look at her. Her lovely hazel eyes are fathomless, and I try not to drown in them. Very gently, I lean over the center console to kiss away her tears, then brush my lips against hers, offering my absolution.

Her lips nuzzle into mine, as tender and sweet as ever, and I feel her free hand curl around my cheek, her thumb stroking lightly.

“C’mere,” I say, and I reach for her hands, tugging at them until she climbs awkwardly over the center console and into my lap. I hold her close, my arms snug around her waist, and I can feel her heart beating faster, practically vibrating through her slim body.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper into the top of her head. When she’s in my arms like this, I can feel myself growing calmer, every sharp anxiety dulling as it fades into the background.

She smiles, and it feels like sunshine warming me from head to toe. “I’ve missed you, too.”

She shifts, and she presses her soft lips against my cheek before resting her head against my shoulder. I’m not entirely sure how long we stay curled together like that, our breathing becoming synchronized as we watch the sky grow dark and the stars begin to dot the sky above the trees.

I do have one more question for her, however.

“Why exactly did Poe ask me to be a getaway driver at Zorii’s party?”

She startles out of her reverie of stargazing, and a laugh escapes her. “Oh my god… Did he really ask you that? Of course he asked you that. Well, I was meaning to tell you… I have this plan…”

+++

My feet hit the pavement as I run. Feeling energized, I’d pulled on my tennis shoes almost as soon as I’d rolled out of bed, and now I’m running down the tree-lined residential streets of Fort Windu. I grin broadly, thinking of Rey, and how I’d kissed her goodbye at her front door like the last few weeks hadn’t happened. I’d squeezed my hands around her little waist, tugging her against my body, making her gasp against my lips, and she’d danced away from my grasp, laughing. I saw the brass of the Apollo 13 keychain glint under her porch light as she unlocked her door, and she’d smiled at me, whispering goodnight as she slipped inside her trailer.

I’m sweating and breathing hard as I return to the house, and I see my mom’s new sedan in the driveway, signifying that she’s finally back from her week in the field. I barge through the doorway, and I practically trip over her gear in the foyer. Mom is disheveled and muddy and looks thoroughly done.

“That was the most useless week of my life,” she groans, giving me a big hug. I’m pretty sweaty, and we both smell bad, so we’re equally disgusting.

“Glad you’re back, Mom,” I say, giving her a squeeze. “I think dad’s still asleep upstairs. You want coffee? Toast?”

“You’re my favorite child,” she says, and she proceeds to drag herself upstairs to go shower.

“I’m your only child,” I protest, and I wander off to the kitchen to start the coffeemaker before heading to my own bathroom.

“Doesn’t make it not true!”

+++

“So you’ve made up with Rey?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow at me as she sips her coffee.

I look at my toast and spread grape jelly, avoiding eye contact for a long second before looking up at her with a sheepish smile, and replying quietly, “Yeah… we had a really long talk. We cleared everything up. We apologized to each other.”

Mom looks tired, but I think that’s more from the field than the update she must have gotten from my dad about my love life. She nods thoughtfully, and I feel her eyes move over my face all too perceptively.

“You’re wondering if I approve or not,” she says.

I shrug, trying not to look like I care too deeply if I have her seal of approval.

There’s a pause, and I feel her pat the back of my hand. “You’re a smart boy, Ben. I trust you to know what you want and what’s good for you. And I like Rey—very much.”

“What does Dad think?”

“Your dad likes having her around. Someone has to laugh at his jokes, and she hasn’t heard them all yet.”

Mom and I snort laughing while I grab another piece of toast and slather it with jelly. When I take a big bite, I look at my watch and notice that I’m running late for bagging duty at the commissary.

“Shiiii…iirtsandpants. Gotta go. Pay day weekend!” I shove the rest of the toast into my mouth and bolt out of the kitchen as my mother watches, amused.

+++

Sunday night, Rey bounds out of her trailer to climb into the passenger side of the Wagoner. She’s pulling a red-and-black-checked flannel on over her gray tank top, but not before I notice a long bandage wrapped around her forearm. She gives me a quick kiss before buckling her seatbelt. I can’t believe how normal it feels to just be with her like this. Like the universe makes a little more sense.

“What happened to your arm?”

“Hmm? Oh! Cut myself at work. I caught my arm on the metal edge of the open stereo. It sliced right through.” Rey shakes her head and shrugs.

I give her a sidelong look. “I thought you just did outdoor stuff around here for your landlord?”

“I got a new job a few weeks ago at this electronics shop. Ten bucks an hour, and all I have to do is fix up stereos and VCRs! No more dodging rattlesnakes, scrubbing graffiti, or picking up dirty diapers.”

Rey makes a dramatic gagging noise, and I laugh.

“What shop? I want to see where you work!”

She hesitates, and I can sense she’s making some mental calculations, and I wonder what could be so top-secret that she can’t just tell me.

“Well, I kind of work under-the-table at this place called Plutt’s Repair Center? He says he can’t afford payroll taxes, so it’s just this arrangement we have, and so he doesn’t like me to tell people. He’s kind of rude, but he paid me today, like he said he would.”

Plutt’s? I frown slightly as we turn onto the road that takes us up to Fort Windu’s main gate. The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it off the top of my head. It seems really sketchy to me that he’d secretly hire a girl Rey’s age off the books and tell her to keep it a secret. “Where is that? I don’t think I’ve seen it in your part of town…”

Rey tries to reply nonchalantly. “It’s not… it’s more near the South Gate of Fort Windu?”

“That’s kind of far. How are you getting there?” I know Maz can’t be taking her, and the Jakku public transit system is a joke on a good day and a sure-fire way to end up dead in a ditch every other day. My lips purse as I glance at her, then back at the road. With my hand still in a cast, I’m driving fairly cautiously these days.

When she replies, Rey sounds kind of sheepish. “Weeeeell, I’ve just been taking Maz’s car. I know it’s not technically legal, but I’ll be sixteen in July. I didn’t want to let this job slip by. And Plutt definitely doesn’t care, so it’s not a big deal.”

“WHAT!?” I just gape openly at Rey at this point, barely acknowledging the gate guard as we drive onto Windu. She seems a little amused by my reaction, her lips teasing into the barest of smiles.

“Rey… what if you get caught? They’ll block you from getting a license! You’ll get a ticket. You’ll get in trouble!” I just sputter.

She arches an eyebrow at me, and I see her spine stiffen, and her voice is steady when she speaks, “I promise I’m being really careful. Just… Could you not mention it to anyone? At least until I get my license.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask, concerned. I don’t doubt that she’s ready to drive, it’s just that I can picture her getting pulled over and all her hopes for a legal driver’s license crashing like the Hindenburg. “Can’t you just wait until July?”

She shakes her head, and as I pull into the driveway in front of my house, she turns to me, her face serious. “I wish it could wait, but it can’t, Ben. Teedo raised the lot rent in March, and I—Maz and I—need the extra money. She just gets social security, so I have to do what I can.”

“So… it’s not just pocket money?” Then I remember something she told me last February. “You’re not saving up for a computer…”

Rey smiles faintly, and suddenly I begin to understand more and more of what I’ve seen in her face since meeting her. The dark circles under her eyes. The line of stress between her eyebrows. Her weariness. I suddenly get why she put up with the miserable working conditions at Jakku Acres and why I’ve never even seen her buy a candy bar from the school vending machine and why some of her clothes looked threadbare or ill-fitting. I guess I’d known she was poor… I just… I feel such a pulse of guilt at my obliviousness.

“It’s for rent and other things. I don’t really like to talk about it--I’m not ashamed, or anything. It’s just… it’s the way things are. I have to do this.”

“Is there… Is there anything I can do to help? What—”

God. I get to keep every dollar I make at the commissary. I have an allowance. My parents even said they’ll continue paying the insurance on my car—full insurance, too. I feel spoiled and awful sitting next to her, a big baby next to this little adult.

Rey shakes her head and grabs my good hand, brushing her little calloused fingers over my knuckles. “Nope. Just be you.”

Her smile is achingly sweet, and I wonder that she doesn’t look at me with resentment. She never seems frustrated by what others have that she lacks, now that I consider it. She just lives her life, making do.

“I can do that, and I won’t tell anyone. Just promise me you’ll get road legal as soon as possible?” I ask her, giving her hand a light squeeze.

“That’s the plan,” she assures me, touching her lips to mine in a quick kiss before sliding out of the car.

+++

Neither of my parents are home, so as soon as Rey takes off her tennis shoes, I grab her hand and pull her upstairs to my bedroom.

“Okay. So… you have a plan, but I do, too…” I start telling her.

I open my bedroom door and put my hand on the small of her back, guiding her inside. I feel a thrill of excitement, because I want so badly to impress her with what I’ve been working on. For her.

“I want you to tell me what you think. And I’ll do whatever you say.”

She pauses awkwardly inside the doorway, her breath catching in her throat as she looks around the room, her eyes falling on my rumpled bed. I step past her, my hand still around her waist, trying to guess what’s making her so hesitant, wondering if I left some overripe laundry out, but I don’t see anything.

I give her waist a little squeeze.

“Go ahead and sit on the bed,” I say, kissing her cheek, wondering why I can suddenly feel tension rolling off her. Before I turn to my desk, I see her facial expression droop as if weighed down by some unpleasant recollection. After a moment, she seems to shake away whatever is lurking in her head, and she moves to my bed, leaning over it to straighten the sheets and blankets and pillows until it looks freshly made before perching stiffly on the edge. Oh. _Oh_.

I flush and sit heavily in my computer chair, and I look at her, not sure if touching her is the right thing to do. I think it’s not. So I just start talking.

“Um, so… Your pictures, uh, they’re being sent around on email, right? So I’ve had this idea about how to maybe stop them from getting around? Get them off people’s computers?”

Rey nods, composed, but leaning forward slightly. She seems to relax as I talk, and I’m relieved. I relax, too, and I stop stumbling over my words so much. I take a stack of diskettes off my desk and hand them to her. They’re all plain black, unmarked. Utterly nondescript. She turns them over in her hands, shuffling through them with interest.

“I put a program that can scrub files, on all these diskettes.”

“Like a virus?”

“No… what these diskettes have is a legit file scrubber program. It just deletes certain files but doesn’t corrupt anything. I set it up to launch and scrub image files that were created within a certain timeframe. But it doesn’t harm the computer.”

Rey frowns slightly, eyebrows knitting together as she considers it.

“I already did it to Hux while we were working on that history project, and he hasn’t said anything. He might not have noticed yet.”

“So who would get these disks?”

“I’ve got a list of people who might have the pictures… your pictures… so I thought I’d just put these disks in their bags.”

Rey hands the diskettes back to me, her frown deepening. “But they could have sent the pictures to anyone. They could have saved them to disk. It’s… I don’t know. How are you going to approach each person on the list? And won’t they all figure it out?”

I set the diskettes aside and shift, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. “Don’t you like it? It would take away access…”

“For some. Not all. What if they don’t use it on their computer? What if the file is still sitting in an old email?” Rey is chewing on her lip. “I… I don’t hate the idea, but this is a lot of people to deal with. More people, more exposure.”

I nod my head, conceding her point. “Then… there’s this other thing I did.”

I find the disk I’d hidden under my mousepad, and I hand it to her. “This one does have a virus on it.”

After weeks of careful research, I had downloaded a file containing a virus guaranteed to completely erase Snap’s computer’s hard drive. It’s irresistibly labeled _imagexxxgallery_ , and at first glance, it’ll be exactly as advertised; however, it’s coded to release a virus that will eat everything on his hard drive. I figure there’s no chance Snap won’t click that file.

She quirks an eyebrow at me, the corner of her mouth quirking. I think she’s trying not to smile. I wonder if she thinks I’m funny, or if she’s somewhat impressed by my resourcefulness, or… I don’t know.

“This is for Snap--it would fuck his computer up. Permanently.”

She cradles this diskette a little differently, and I see a smile bloom on her face like a flower in full sun. She doesn’t take long to make her decision.

“Okay. Use this one. It’ll keep him from doing anything stupid when we run my plan.”

“I’ll get this diskette in Snap’s bag this week,” I promise her with a broad smile.

“Ben--you did this all for me? Even before we made up?” Rey’s voice is soft, and I can see her eyes shining. 

Before I can reply, she launches herself at me, hugging me until I pretend to gasp for mercy. I pull her into my lap, skimming my hand along the smooth outside of her thigh as she kisses me fiercely, her hands tangling in my hair. I want her. Badly. But good things are worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep having visions of Hux as Charles “Upchuck” Ruttheimer III from Daria. Upchuck was typically seen as a big, lecherous joke, but there was one episode where he grotesquely (20+ years of hindsight is amazing, y’all) blackmails Brittany with scandalous photos he took of her with a telephoto lens. The 90s were wild. He never gets punished for this! Gotdamn, I am questioning my entire adolescence.
> 
> Yes, I know there is no Presidential Medal of Bravery. This is a Ben Solo imagining. He’s 17, y’all. 
> 
> Ah, yes. Army field exercises. It’s an all hands on-deck experience where there’s a whole lot of sitting around, doing absolutely nothing. They are boring, and everyone just comes home stinking and annoyed.
> 
> This is a long and talky chapter, but it gets some chess pieces in place for the next installment, and it should conclude peak angst. There’s still a little bit ahead, but nothing as bumpy as the last few chapters. And the next few chapters should provide a return to smutlandia with plenty of detours into absolute fluff. 
> 
> And goodness, y’all--what exactly IS Rey going to get up to at that party? What will her crew be doing? Stay tuuuuuned.
> 
> I am a feral cat stalking Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1


	18. steer into the spin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Rey and Ben enjoy an afternoon at the river. School lets out for the summer. The crew executes on Rey’s plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never felt this effervescence in my soul. Never. My life isn’t perfect. I have worries. I’m still broke. I still don’t know how I’m going to get my driver’s license. But for once, for the first time in years, I feel like the future might hold something good for me. And in the meantime, the present has me holding Ben Solo’s hand in the lunch line, and I feel like I’ve got the softest, warmest blanket wrapped around my heart.

Even when the lunch lady hands me my tray with her usual scowl of indifference, it feels like a gift. Okay, that might be too much of an exaggeration. It’s the end of the year, and I can tell the cafeteria staff is just working through whatever is left in the storage pantry, which means the food served is increasingly dubious, even by my standards. I’m not entirely sure sloppy joe meat is supposed to be this grayish color. Ben looks appalled, but he accepts a tray of his own.

When we join Finn, Rose, Poe, and, oddly, Gwen, they all look astonished for a brief second, before their faces turn gleeful. Well, I wouldn’t call Gwen gleeful, but she does quirk a sardonic eyebrow and offer something approximating a smile. I was expecting their surprise--I didn’t call Rose over the weekend to tell her that Ben and I were… on good terms? Friends? Together? Nothing really seems to capture the way I feel. We’re not just friends, that much is certain. When we’re together, my senses swing wildly between comfort and pure electricity. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

Poe grins and slaps Ben on the arm. “I knew it!”

Finn rolls his eyes and grumbles, “No, you did not.”

Rose looks like she singlehandedly discovered cold fusion, and she nudges her knee against mine under the table. “So, Ben, are you coming to Zorii’s party?”

He lifts his shoulders slightly, silently conveying, “I guess so,” as he looks down at me with a teasing smile that lights up his angular face.

“He’ll be there,” I supply rather cheekily, bumping my shoulder against his arm. Even sitting he towers over me, and I like how solid he feels at my side. “Should be fun, right?”

Our lunch conversation quickly turns to summer plans and weird things people had written in their yearbooks. And Ben Solo and I cheerfully eat our terrible lunches, listening to Finn, Rose, and Poe chatter away with the occasional input from Gwen.

+++

I wait for Ben in the student parking lot after school each day, and on Wednesday, when we climb into his Jeep Wagoneer, he leans over and kisses me intently, his large hand cupping my cheek, long fingers curling around the back of my neck. I shiver when he strokes my vertebrae. When he’s satisfied, he pulls away, his whiskey-hued eyes glittering.

“The disk’s in his bag.” Ben’s voice is low, and I nod, giving him a little smile. I feel a thrill knowing that this means the plans are officially launched. Our friends don’t know about this component of the plan. Our secret.

“Fingers crossed,” I say lightly, and I suddenly feel breathless. My fingertips tap on my knees nervously. “Are you ready for Friday? It might get ugly…”

“I’m very ready,” Ben assures me. I can feel his eyes moving over my face, then down to my twitchy hands. He collects my hands in his, stilling their movements. I don’t know how he’s so calm—every day, Ben seems more certain, more comfortable, as if some restlessness in him is finally being satisfied. “And even if we have to run like hell, I’m going to be with you.”

“I think it’s going to work. It’s just kind of a big deal, you know? Knowing you’re there to help, and Finn and Rose and Poe… It feels amazing, Ben. And it’s also terrifying.”

Ben tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my hear, and I feel his fingertips brush slightly against the curve of my neck. “It’ll be alright. It’s a good plan. Ballsy, but good.”

Ben finally backs the Wagoneer out of the parking space, and we leave campus. With little homework and nowhere in particular to be, Ben usually drives around so we can talk before he drops me off at home. We are still reveling in the novelty of being unsupervised in a car after all those weeks of Driver’s Ed and his dad chauffeuring us around Jakku.

It feels so free. The sun is bright, the weather warm, and we roll down the windows to feel the fresh air. After a few minutes, we turn on the radio and turn up the volume, and Ben grimaces when I turn it to a pop country station, but he lets me have my way.

“This is Jakku, North Carolina, Ben Solo! And in Jakku, we respect Leann Rimes!” I scold him happily, before, joining in on the chorus. I can sing a little, so I’m not too shy about diving into a song.

_How do I live without you? I want to know_

_How do I breathe without you if you ever go?_

_How do I ever, ever survive?_

_How do I, how do I, oh, how do I live?_

Ben just laughs, calling the song corny, and when he grins his crooked smile, I smack his arm. “No, this is super serious, Ben! Feeeeel the music!”

“Please tell me you don’t like Garth Brooks. Do you have friends in low places, Rey?”

I huff at the offense and pretend to have a heart attack in the passenger seat. “Ben! You are offending my people! I do have friends in low places! Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases!”

He groans melodramatically and changes the station when Leann is done singing.

“Aaaw, Ben!” I cry, but I’m laughing.

Ben stops briefly at a gas station to buy us a couple of Cokes, and then he drives us back to the spot in the woods where we’d parked on Friday night. It’s quiet and still, and I can only hear the tree branches rustling in the breeze. I can practically smell the water from the river, we’re so close.

I quirk an eyebrow at him, but he gives me a slightly wicked smile that I can’t help but return. His dimples and slightly crooked teeth are irresistible to me. He turns the radio back to pop country, and he begins to climb over the center console to the passenger seat.

He crowds me as he reaches for the lever that will scoot my seat backward, and I fumble for the lever that will recline the seat. The seat back reclines so suddenly that he loses his balance, collapsing on top of me as I fall backwards. We lay there for a second, stunned, Ben’s warm brown eyes wide with surprise then worry as he checks to see if I’m alright. I giggle and push at his arms lightly.

“Can’t breathe… crushing me… oofmph,” I groan, and I squeeze his biceps… and finding them very firm, I squeeze them again, my fingers playing lightly over his skin.

Ben cages me in with his arms, shifting so his full body weight isn’t on me. I can feel my heartbeat quicken—his fingers drift over my jaw, and he cups my cheek as he touches his lips to mine. Gently at first, then with increasing fire, the warm coals of his interest blazing into something altogether more intense.

I sigh a pleased noise into his mouth, tangling my hands in his thick hair. I shiver beneath him, enjoying his solid weight and his firm muscles. He runs a large, gentle hand over my rib cage and cups my breast through my tee shirt. These slow, languorous kisses make my bones feel as if they’re about to melt, and I shift to curl a leg around his hips, wanting to pull him closer to my body.

Ben seems to shudder with pleasure, then buries his face in the curve of my neck, and kisses me there lingeringly before pulling away slowly, looking flushed and slightly sweaty. It’s a hot day, and what we’re doing isn’t exactly cooling.

“I… do you want to go down to the river?” he asks suddenly, awkwardly backing off me, a hand moving to his groin, covering what I expect is a rather intense hard-on. His face is full of concern as he watches me.

I’m breathing hard from all the kissing, and I struggle to sit upright. If I weren’t already red-faced from making out with him, I’d blush. Did he not want to… with me? Was he changing his mind? I feel a pulse of anxiety throb so deep inside my ribcage, I winced at the pain.

“I-if that’s what you want, Ben,” I say. I try to smooth my tee shirt, and when I reach up to touch my hair, I can feel that my buns are beyond repair, so I pull the hair ties from my hair.

“I, uh.” He looks down at himself, then climbs awkwardly back to the driver’s side, still fighting with his erection. The look on his face is increasingly pained, and he tries to take a few deep breaths, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry, Rey. I promise I didn’t bring you here just to mess around.”

“Oh… I… I didn’t think that, Ben.” I touch his arm and he shivers, so I pull my hand away.

He sighs again.

“Okay, I totally planned to make out with you, but, uh, I was already getting carried away, and we just got back together, and I know you’re still a little shy of… stuff… so, uh…”

Ben sounds like he’s suffering, and his eyes are clenched shut, and I wish I could reach for his hand, but it’s occupied at the moment. But there’s something in his anguished demeanor, in the hesitance of his voice, and I am surprised to realize that Ben, as… amorous as he is… as much as he’s trying to safeguard me, is a little nervous and overwhelmed, too. I feel such a pulse of affection for him, I just want to wrap him in my arms and show him the comfort he’s always given me so freely.

“It’s okay, Ben,” I say softly. “Let’s go cool off in the river. Um, I’ll give you a minute, yeah?”

He nods his head, and I slip out the passenger door and wait for him. After a few minutes, he turns off the radio and joins me. I take his hand, slotting our fingers together, and he leans down to kiss the top of my head.

We spend an hour wading in the river after Ben secures a plastic baggie over his hand cast. The current isn’t fast here, and it’s nice and cool in the water, which tends from murky green to blue in some spots. I can see little fish darting, and turtles and frogs. In the shallows, Ben wraps his arms around my waist and spins me through the water, making me squeal and kick my feet in the water. We skip stones, and we splash each other, and by the time we sit back on the riverbank, we’re breathing hard and our clothes are clinging to us. His dark hair drips in his face, and I can see his ears poking outward.

“I really missed touching you,” he says abruptly. “I thought about it every day. I’d get so _hard_ thinking about you. And now you’re here… and… this is really embarrassing, but I realized I don’t know what I’m doing. I know what I _want_ to do, but…”

I lay back in the sand and reach for Ben’s hand again, pulling it to my lips so I can kiss his knuckles. “I’m not much of an expert, either.”

Ben lays back as well, and he pulls my hand back to his mouth to return the light kisses. “I know. I just want it to feel good--for both of us.”

“It has been good so far,” I say, a little shyly. “So maybe we can just, I don’t know… take our time? Learn what we like? And then when we’re ready…” I shrug my shoulders a little, and I shift to lean over Ben and drop my lips to his in a kiss. This might be the boldest suggestion of my life, and for once, where sex is involved, I feel oddly decisive. Maybe it’s because of Ben. Maybe it’s because he’s the right person.

“Hmm. Summer lovin’, had me a blast?” he asks with his crooked smile spreading across his face before pulling me on top of him and hugging tight.

“But oh oh those summer niiights,” I sing back to him, resting my chin on his chest, and we both laugh. I trace my fingers around his big ears until he blushes, and we stay like that for a long time until we both get too cold and clammy from lying on the sandy riverbank.

When I go to bed that night, I think of my tall, handsome Ben, and I touch myself until I sigh his name into my pillow.

+++

“Rose, I don’t know,” I mutter, looking at myself in a mirror.

At least, I think it’s myself. The girl I see bears no resemblance to Rey Sands beyond height and hair color. This girl is missing the usual ill-fitting tee shirt and jeans with holes in the knees in favor of a simple green silk top with spaghetti straps and exceedingly short black linen shorts. And her scuffed tennis shoes are gone, replaced with black espadrilles. Who is this girl with pretty eyes and long legs? I’m not used to feeling this way.

“Rey. First of all, revenge plot aside, it is the first party of summer, so it never hurts to look great. Second of all, if you’re going to set the trap, you have to Set. The. Trap,” Rose pronounced, speaking as if I were very naïve. She looked pool party perfect, wearing a crimson halter-style stop and a denim skirt.

From the moment Finn had dropped Rose and me off at her house this afternoon, Rose had been bossing me around, forcing me to try on one outfit after another from Paige’s closet, and fussing with my hair and makeup. I felt personally victimized by Rose Tico. Mrs. Tico had to intervene at one point, telling Rose I looked frightened, which was entirely true—Rose had pulled out a curling iron, and she was getting aggressive.

“I don’t feel like I’m wearing enough clothes,” I complain, holding very still as Rose carefully winds my hair around the curling iron in an effort to give me waves, rather than my usual chaos of flyaway hairs.

“It’s a pool party. You’ll be wearing more than half the people there.”

It doesn’t matter what I say, she always has a perfectly reasonable response. She wants to be an attorney one day, and I pity anyone who attempts to argue against her. At any rate, I’m so focused on my plan that letting Rose take command of my appearance is the least of my concerns.

+++

Finn picks up Rose and me, and we convene with Ben, Poe, and, weirdly, Gwen, a block away from Zorii’s house. Ben’s eyebrows jerk upward in astonishment when he sees me, his eyes moving over me with a very particular interest, and he freezes for a second before he remembers to greet me, slipping an arm around my shoulders. His large hand rests on my bare shoulder, his thumb brushing against the nape of my neck, making me shiver. But there are other things to consider right now.

I glance at Ben with a little smile, and he winks at me, then I turn to the others.

“So… I have four of these disposable cameras…” I say matter-of-factly. “Poe, Finn, Rose, and I will take the cameras. Ben, you’re only working with one hand, so… that won’t work. Gwen, uh… welcome?”

I hand out the cameras, purchased the previous day at the pharmacy with some of my wages from Plutt’s. The cameras were $15 each, and the sum total represents two weeks of groceries for me. But it’s worth it. I know this is worth it.

“You can have the cameras out, but be casual about them. Poe and Rose? Can you deal with Hux? Sorry in advance…”

Poe nods, and Rose gives me a thumbs up.

“Finn and Ben? You’ll help me with Snap?” Finn flashes a bright grin, and Ben’s hand tightens on my shoulder in response. Just knowing he’s there makes me feel a little tougher. I can do this. I hate the little performance I’m going to have to put on, but I’ve talked about it with Ben. He says he’s ready, no matter what.

“Okay, so you all know what I need. Make it quick, and get out of there as soon as it’s done. Whatever you do, do _not_ lose the cameras. Do not let anyone outside this group touch those cameras. If you have to leave fast, do it. You know the meetup point?”

Everyone nods. Our groups might shuffle a bit based on logistics, but it doesn’t matter. I watch Ben hand his car keys to Poe, just in case, muttering, “I swear to fucking God, Dameron, if you put a scratch on my car, I’ll end you.”

Poe just laughs. “Your threats don’t work on me, sasquatch. I know your kind are herbivores.”

Ben sighs as if deeply pained.

+++

The party is in full swing when we straggle in, fashionably late. Zorii lives in a gigantic house, and while adults are scarce, teenagers are plentiful. The house is bursting at the seams with people holding red cups, carrying bowls of chips, and incredibly loud music is blasting. Master P is the jam of the hour. The walls are vibrating from the resonant bass of the stereo, and I can hear excited screams from the back yard, followed by splashing as people jump off the diving board. More than a few people are already drunk.

Zorii waves absent-mindedly from across her living room, paying us little mind, as we head out towards the pool deck. We get, well, honestly, I get, some odd looks from other partygoers, but generally, they just shrug and mind their own business. I’ve made it through two years of high school and this is the first social function I’ve attended. I’ve never gone to a dance or a sporting event or one of these parties. Just for the hell of it, when I walk by a cooler, I snag a Zima.

Ben seems amused. “Liquid courage?” he asks, finding us a place to sit on a low retaining wall just beyond the pool. The others are a few feet away, casually mingling as we keep our eyes out.

“Something like that,” I reply, twisting the cap off and taking a sip.

Ben casually traces a finger over my shoulder and tugs on the spaghetti strap of my green top, his eyes flickering from mine to my lips, and downward, even, with a surreptitious glance at my collarbones and my chest. I blush under his intense scrutiny. He’s eyeing me like a juicy steak.

“You look amazing tonight,” he whispers in my ear. “Those shorts are unreal on you, and this top is going to be masturbation inspiration for the rest of my life.”

I smack his leg, feeling my face grow hot. “Benjamin Solo! Shush!” But I can’t from laughing. “You’re terrible. What if someone heard you?”

“They’d think I was honest. And correct. I like this color on you.” Ben’s playful energy ripples off him in tumbling waves, and I vaguely hope I can keep him focused on the evening’s main agenda… while also making a mental note to revisit this flirtatious conversation later.

We’re interrupted by some loud squealing as Finn and Poe attempt to wrestle Rose to the edge of the pool, acting as if they’re going to throw her in, and Ben and I get up and join our friends.

“Put Rose down!” I laugh, grabbing her around the middle and tugging her more firmly away from the pool until the boys relent, and she’s back on her feet and chasing them in revenge. Gwen stands stiffly next to me for a moment. She’s as tall as Ben, and I have to tilt my head back to look up at the tall blonde, she’s so close.

Her eyes dart to me, and she murmurs quietly, “I owe you an apology. I had you all wrong.”

I’m so shocked, my mouth drops open, and I just awkwardly pat her elbow. “It’s fine, Gwen. You didn’t really know me. No one did.” And honestly, she’s the first person to apologize. I’m not going to tell her to shove it.

Ben wraps an arm around my waist, and he grins down at me, his expression easy and intent. “But I do.”

Gwen rolls her eyes at him, and as she looks over my head, I see her expression change. “Incoming,” she whispers.

+++

Hux and Snap stroll in, practically swaggering, dragging a wagon with an immense beer keg behind them and instantly become the heroes of the hour. Anyone who manages to bring a quantity of alcohol to a high school party achieves a certain social cache, and I realize this must be a key component to their continued popularity despite having completely repugnant personalities. People are fucking cheering for them, and I groan and roll my eyes. Both boys grin and posture with the keg as if it’s some sort of hunting trophy.

I can feel Ben’s playfulness melt away, leaving an angry energy in its wake. I bump him with my shoulder and look up at him with a significant lift of my eyebrows. He nods subtly, acknowledging that it’s time to shuffle everyone into place. Gwen and Rose sit at the edge of the pool with Poe, dangling their legs into the water. Finn, Ben, and I head inside the house.

Finn has been to a party here before, so Ben and I let him give us a bit of a tour before parting ways with him and finding our own corner of the living room to set up camp. Ben takes my hand and leads me to the sofa, sitting down and pulling me into his lap simultaneously. We attract some looks, but there are enough couples seated similarly that I’m not out of place. I’m still slowly sipping my purloined Zima from earlier, and Ben places a casual hand on my knee, giving it a little squeeze. I pat my pocket to make sure the disposable camera is still there.

Zorii’s house grows more crowded by the minute. The music gets louder, and the room gets hotter. After about thirty minutes on the couch, Ben and I decide to stand, and we’re jostled between bodies as people circulate and mingle. As people surge around us, and we squeeze through, eventually we are face to face with Snap and Hux, who have already look like they’ve consumed a few cups of the beer they brought—they both have sweat beading on their foreheads, and their faces are reddening.

Ben’s arm curls protectively around my waist, and I can feel the barely controlled vibration of resentment in him for these two. I nudge him in a reminder that we have to stick to the plan, and I’m going to need him to play his part.

I look up at Snap, blinking rapidly, as if I’m thoroughly astonished to see him. “Oh! Well, this is awkward,” I say a little breathlessly, and it’s easy enough to look embarrassed in front of him. After all, my last encounter with him was in the cafeteria the prior week, and that hadn’t been great. I’d managed to avoid him ever since. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

Hux’s lip curls in disdain as he looks down at me, then back at Ben. He bites back whatever it is he so clearly wants to say, likely on account of Ben’s presence. “Is Gwen around?” he asks instead.

Ben’s voice is neutral as he gestures toward the sliding glass doors that lead out to the pool deck, “I think she’s by the pool with Poe.”

Hux surprises me by addressing me, even though his look leans heavily towards sardonic. “I thought you were a terrible driver until Solo and I had to ride with Dameron.”

I’m so surprised I laugh, and he just stalks off for the pool deck and the fate I’ve arranged for him with Poe and Rose. Which leaves us with Snap.

“What, are you a party girl now, Sands?” Snap asks, not altogether meanly, more out of morbid curiosity to see me so clearly out of my natural habitat. His eyes move over me slowly from head to toe, and I try not to show my revulsion.

Ben bristles visibly next to me, and he glowers at Snap, but I just laugh. “One party doesn’t make me a party girl.” _And one bad boyfriend doesn’t make me a slut, either_. “Ben thought we should celebrate the end of year.”

“So you two are on again?” he asks, then takes a long drink from his red solo cup, and I think I see a flicker of jealousy in his eyes as he looks up at Ben.

“For now, I guess!” I giggle, and smack Ben’s arm. Predictably he stiffens and glares down at me. “We’re keeping things casual.”

“I have to take a piss,” Ben grumbles before stomping off, and I just roll my eyes after him for Snap’s benefit.

“Well, he’s a smooth talker,” Snap says, waiting for Ben to be out of earshot before continuing. “I don’t know why he bothered bringing you here. This isn’t exactly your scene, is it?”

I shrug, and I touch my Zima bottle to my lips for another tiny sip, flicking my eyes up at his face coyly.

As always, Snap keeps talking. “You know, we never really got to finish our conversation the other day.”

I bite my lip and murmur, “Yeah, sorry I lost my temper. You caught me at a really bad moment.”

He hums slightly, apparently deep in thought. I know already how shallow that pool of contemplation is, and predictably, he reaches for my wrist, but I avoid his grasp. “Why don’t we go someplace quiet to talk?

“I don’t know…” I say, blinking up at him, letting my voice sound hesitant. “Ben will be back soon.”

“It won’t take long.” _It never did, asshole_.

“Well, okay…”

Snap predictably leads me past the kitchen and down the long hallway, and like Finn had instructed, I counted until the third door on the left, which was cracked open.

“It looks quiet in here,” I say, pressing my hand on the door to peek inside what seems to be a small guest bedroom. There’s a small desk and a double bed with a plush bedspread. A nightstand with a lamp. And a closet with sliding doors.

“What did you want to talk about?” I ask softly.

Snap closes the bedroom door behind him and locks it, his smile growing broader by the moment. I feel a thread of doubt, but I remind myself that my friends are here with me. There’s a plan. Everyone knows the plan. 

“You were pretty rude to me in the cafeteria last week, Rey,” he says, his tone mild. I take a step back, headed toward the desk, avoiding the bed.

“It was a bad day for me… and I didn’t like you suggesting I fool around with you _and_ Hux.” My voice is soft, and I try to keep my expression convincingly tremulous. “It hurt my feelings.”

“Well, I don’t like that you keep turning me down. I don’t want to have to use those pictures to get what I want. We could be casual, too, like you and Solo.”

He keeps moving toward me, and I feel my back press against the edge of the desk. When he reaches me, he plants his hands on the desk on either side of my hips, trapping me. My heart is vibrating with stress at this point.

“What do you want from me, Snap?” I ask, wide-eyed and sweet-voiced.

“I want to see if Solo’s taught you anything.” His voice is losing his conciliatory tone quickly, and before I know it, he’s fisting his hand into my hair and pulling me away from the desk. He backs up toward the bed and with a painful tug of my hair, he forces me onto my knees in front of him.

“How about this, Rey?” he asks, looking down at me with a smirk.

I feel bile burn in the back of my throat, but I just nod. I just have to play along a little longer, and I blink up at him with watery eyes. I can see he likes my cowed expression. Without further instruction from him, I reach for the front of his shorts and unbutton and unzip them slowly, tugging them down a bit.

“Close your eyes,” I whisper. “I’ll take care of you.”

My heart is pounding so hard, I’m shocked that Snap can’t hear it. Every brain cell I have is ping-ponging inside my skull. I feel his fist tighten in my hair, but he closes his eyes.

Now or never, I think. My hands are shaking, but I tug down his boxer shorts, my nose wrinkling in disgust at the sight of his genitals flopping out at me. Ugh. I put a hand on his hip, cringing inwardly, while my other hand fishes the disposable camera out of my shorts pocket.

I take a breath, steeling myself for whatever happens next. Before he gets too impatient at my lack of action, I bring the camera up, point, and click.

For such a little sound, it makes a big impact. Snap’s eyes fly open, and when he sees me kneeling before him with the camera, he snarls at me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?”

I scramble back, wrenching my hair out of his grasp. It hurts, and I wince. Before Snap can make a move, the closet door slides open, and Finn jumps out to take another picture of Snap. He is grinning broadly, and I can see he’s taking pleasure in watching Snap stand there frozen with his shorts and boxers around his knees. I stumble to my feet, winding the little camera dial as fast as I can before pointing and clicking in Snap’s direction again. Snap’s already jerking his shorts and boxers back up, and Finn and I are racing for the bedroom door.

“You want these pictures? Give me mine!” I shout, unlocking the door and shoving Finn out in the hallway, quickly forcing my camera into his hand. I’m not wearing good shoes for sprinting, and Finn’s the athlete, so I hiss, “Run!” at him. Finn nods once and takes off like a rocket. Distantly, I hear him scream at Ben to find me. Now I just have to get out of here.

Unfortunately, Snap’s right behind me, and he grabs my arm roughly enough to leave bruises. He jerks me hard and my head bounces off the doorframe, making me see stars. But I’m not done fighting. I whip around, and I use my free hand to slap him across the face as hard as I can, and I take pleasure in his grunt of pain. There’s a bit of a commotion in the hallway, and as I look up, I see Ben knocking people into the walls, shoving past them to get to me.

Snap freezes seeing Ben in full rampage mode, and it is truly a sight to behold. My lumbering sasquatch has never looked more intimidating, all angry dark hair and eyes, and violence seeming to emanate from his every movement. I use the opportunity to knee Snap in the balls viciously. His face turns white and he gasps, collapsing to his knees, and he finally lets go of me. I run to Ben’s side, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his large, solid body to look over my face to make sure I’m alright. His eyes seem to ache with relief that I’m out of there.

Bolstered by Ben’s presence, I turn to Snap for the last time, and I coldly warn him in my sternest voice, “If you don’t return the photos and the negatives to me by this time next Friday, every girl at Jakku High is getting a framed picture of your tiny dick.”

He still has tears in his eyes as he writhes on the floor, and when I see him nod, I’m satisfied. I look up at Ben, who touches my face lightly, a subtle smile on his face, and I realize he’s proud of me before we hurry out of there amidst the shocked gasps and whispers of our classmates. As we make it to Zorii’s front door, I hear screams, and I look back.

Poe and Gwen are soaking wet, skidding and sliding across the pool deck and into Zorii’s house. Rose is in a full sprint, shoving the disposable cameras down the front of her halter top, and Hux is pissed off and right behind them.

“Go, go, gooooo!” Poe screams, waving his arms frantically. Gwen looks alarmed, and Rose is cackling like a madwoman.

Ben’s eyes meet mine, and he bursts out laughing.

Looks like everything has gone according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are enjoying Rey in full “Fuck it!” mode. It has been a long time coming.
> 
> Song references:  
> Leann Rimes – How Do I Live?: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUFasKZcH_c  
> Summer Lovin’ – Olivia Newton John & John Travolta (Grease was re-released in May 1998 for its 20th anniversary, and you bet your booty I went to see it in theaters with my friends! It was constantly on VH1 back then, too.) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NaX28UJYAsA  
> Garth Brooks – Friends in Low Places: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvCgSqPZ4EM  
> Master P – Make Em Say Uhh: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h1fBYUWxaKQ
> 
> Remember Zima? So gross.
> 
> I hang out on Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1


	19. parallel parking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. The revenge crew meets at the rendezvous spot. Rey and Ben get frisky. Ben has pancakes with his parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When my Wagoneer pulls into the parking lot of the diner, I heave a sigh of relief that Poe didn’t wreck it. Finn, Rey, and I tumble out of his car and rush to meet the others.

Rey hurtles herself into Rose’s arms, hugging her tightly, and they giggle as they turn away from the others and Rose fishes the disposable cameras out of her halter top and hands them over to Rey.

“Well… they’re warm…” Rey says, laughing. She deposits the cameras in her battered green backpack, and she tucks the bag back into the trunk of Finn’s car.

“I kept them safe, just like you said, Rey!” Rose teases. Finn wraps his arms around Rose’s waist from behind and kisses her cheek.

“Let’s get some food. I’m starving,” he declares. “All this mission impossible stuff works up an appetite.”

We settle in a big corner booth and order piles of food. Rey lights up when the waitress slides the fries she ordered right in front of her, messily drizzling ketchup all over them. I stare, appalled at the utter anarchy of her ketchup habits, and when she glances up at me, she happily asks if I want a fry, oblivious to appropriate fry protocol.

“Rey, you’re lucky we all love you,” Poe continues, waving his hands dramatically. He apparently feels traumatized by the evening’s events. “But I never, ever wanted to be that close to Armitage Hux’s junk. This was a one-time thing, I assure you.”

Rey laughs and offers him one of her slathered fries, and he shakes his head. “I’m so sorry, Poe. And Gwen. And Rose,” she says. “When I’m rich and famous, send me your therapy bills.”

Apparently, when Hux had approached, Poe and Gwen had made as much conversation as they could, but one thing led to another, and Hux shoved Poe, and Poe shoved back, and Rose grabbed both cameras, and Gwen had shouted for them to knock it off, and Rose had pushed Gwen into the pool, and Hux and Poe had gone in after her…

There were a lot of _ands_ in this story. And when Gwen emerged from the pool, shivering, Hux climbed out after her, but not before Poe yanked down his swim trunks in front of God and everybody. Rose had clicked away, Gwen had screamed, and Poe would be permanently haunted by proximity to the pasty ginger’s ass and other parts for the rest of his life.

And according to Rose, there were screams aplenty as Hux’s eerily white genitals were displayed for all to see. And whether or not gingers had a soul, his had most certainly left his body when he was exposed.

Rey giggles helplessly, covering her mouth at the increasingly outlandish descriptions from Poe and Rose. I notice that she doesn’t detail any of her encounter with Snap, nor does Finn supply details. They just calmly tell the others that they got the pictures, and Snap is infuriated.

“And did you tell Hux what he has to do to get the photos back from me?” she asks, eventually, her hand slipping under the table to find mine. I squeeze it gently, silently giving her my support. I know she must be tired by now; I can see it in the way her smile fades a little faster, the increasingly forced cheer she projects. She’s happy, but the adrenaline is gone.

Gwen replies to her question. “I told him that you’re keeping the cameras for the rest of high school, and if you ever hear of anyone receiving your pictures from him, or anything else of that nature, you’ll be putting prints in every locker.”

My eyes widen in astonishment. Gwen had never seemed to be the biggest fan of Rey, but she’s certainly had a change of heart. Then again, she’s never been stupid, and she’s been pursuing Poe, so… perhaps that’s why.

“That’s diabolical,” I finally say, for lack of anything else.

Gwen shrugs blithely. Rey smiles and reaches a hand towards her in friendship, as open-hearted as ever, and I see why so many people have rallied to her side this year. She’s been bullied and abused and worked her fingers to the bone, but it hasn’t made her cruel.

“Gwen, that’s even better than my idea. I just wanted to scare him a bit, so he’d be kinder.” Her smile is as good-natured as ever, brightening her whole face.

The tall girl shakes her head, looking at Rey with a wry little smile. “He doesn’t have it in him to be kind. Even when he thinks he’s being nice, he’s rude and offensive.” But Gwen takes Rey’s hand and squeezes it companionably. It’s mesmerizing to see the change between the two.

I glance down at my watch, and I startle to see the time. We’ve been at the diner nearly two hours already.

“Gettin’ late,” I announce, and I make a pointed display of stretching tiredly.

I pull out my wallet and put money on the table to cover my burger and onion rings and Rey’s fries. I nudge my leg against Rey’s, and she nudges me back. I can see a smile tugging at her lips, but she keeps her face neutral.

As we all make our way out of the diner, Rey turns to Rose, giving her a tight hug.

“Do you mind if I don’t stay over? I think I’d just like to go home tonight since I have work in the morning.”

“We can have a sleepover some other time,” Rose assures her. “Next time I won’t threaten you with a curling iron, and Paige should be back from college, and you can finally meet her!”

Rey looks as if she doubts Rose’s promise to not threaten her with hair styling tools very much, quirking an eyebrow at Rose. Rose just smiles shamelessly.

When Rey brushes her fingers against my wrist, I clear my throat. “I’ll take Rey home,” I tell Finn.

After I collect Rey’s backpack and my car keys, we head to the Wagoneer. And behind us, I can hear Poe and Rose and Finn making kissy noises behind her backs. I grin down at Rey’s blushing face, and we jump in the car to get away from them.

+++

I park the Wagoneer in our spot by the river, musing to myself how quickly it had become our spot. We sit quietly, just holding hands as we let our eyes adjust to the darkness. The headlights and engine are off, but I turn the radio on to the terrible pop country station she likes, which causes her dimples to deepen as she smiles up at me.

“Are you cold? I’ve got some blankets in the back,” I ask, seeing the gooseflesh rising on her upper arms the longer we sit. The evening air has cooled, and Rey’s not dressed in her usual layers.

“A little,” she admits, and that’s all the inspiration I need before climbing between the front seats and into the back of the Wagoneer.

I tug at the seats, grunting as I force them flat, the creaky hinges fighting me. It’s an ’89, and my parents rarely had a need to fold the seats down. Rey kneels in her seat, watching me, and when I kick off my shoes and pull the blankets from the corner of the cargo area, she toes off her shoes, then crawls from the front to join me.

I put one blanket down on the flattened seats and pull the other around my shoulders before tugging Rey into my arms, settling her against my chest as I lean against the side of the Wagoneer before wrapping us together snugly. She burrows against me with a little sound of satisfaction, and I kiss her temple.

“How’s your head?” I ask lightly, kissing her head again.

I hadn’t been far from the guest room where she’d gone to execute on her plan, so when I heard the scuffle and the door open, I saw Finn bolt out of there like a shot, and then, Rey struggling and getting slammed into the doorframe. It still made my chest tight with anger, but at least she seemed fine. And she’d paid him back with that kick to the balls.

“S’okay. A little sore. Do you think it’ll bruise?”

“It might. I heard the impact.” I try not to replay the moment in my mind, because it’ll just make me white out with rage.

“I’m going to have to cover it up or people will ask questions. And long sleeves so people don’t ask about the bruises on my arm.” Rey sighs, shifting, and I peel back the blanket to look at the arm. There are angry marks, deep fingerprint bruises, from where he’d grabbed her, and I practically growl at the sight.

“He’s lucky you’d already dropped him, or I would have knocked his teeth out for touching you.”

“I know.” Her voice sounds faintly amused, and I look down at her curiously. “You should have seen yourself in the hallway. Everyone was terrified. You were tossing people out of your way like rag dolls. I’ve never seen you angry like that before.”

“I didn’t like seeing him with his hands on you,” I admit. “He was hurting you. I’m so glad this is over. I was really worried for you in there alone with him. He didn’t… do anything to you, did he?” Just the thought of Rey in harm’s way sickens me, and I feel panicked at the thought he might have done more than what I’d seen.

Rey shakes her head. “Well, Finn was there, and he wouldn’t have let anything bad happen to me. I mean, he wasn’t nice… he tried to intimidate me. He pulled my hair and forced me onto my knees. But that only made it easier for me to get the picture.” Her voice is soft, and for all she sounds calm, it’s too calm.

I tense when she tells me this, and I grab her shoulders, turning to look at her, mouth agape. I open my mouth to say a thousand things, but I just end up crushing her slight body to my chest, horrified. Agreeing to the plan was one thing compared to the reality.

“Ben, I’m fine… I swear,” she says, twining her arms around my neck, resting her forehead against mine. She takes a shaky breath. “I admit… I was a little scared of him. But it’s okay now. It’s all over, yeah?”

I touch my lips to hers, and I shift us until we’re lying down together. Her eyes seem to glint with unshed tears, and I caress her face tenderly. Rey smiles slightly, wiping her eyes before she snuggles into me. “I want tonight to be happy. I don’t want to worry about the details—I think my plan worked pretty well.”

She cups my cheek with her little hand. “Kiss me again.”

I nod in agreement and do just that, sliding my hand over her shoulder, enjoying her smooth skin and the delicate sinews of her shoulder bones and her collar bone. I hook my thumb under the strap of her top and pull it down so I can kiss her shoulder. Rey shivers beneath me, and her hand curls behind my neck and tangles in my hair.

Her shiver spurs me on, and I open my mouth to taste her warm skin, possessively sucking a small bruise above the delicate line of her collarbone and grazing my teeth on the curve of her neck. Her hands move from my neck to my upper back, and I feel her fingers press into my flesh before she starts tugging on my shirt. I kiss her neck before pulling back long enough to pull off my tee shirt and cast it aside. I hover over Rey, and I see a smile creep across her face as she looks over my chest with approval and what I hope is desire.

Her lovely hazel eyes flicker up to mine, as if to ask if this is okay, as she touches her hands to my chest, her touch featherlight and making me exhale a little noise that shudders through the entirety of my body. I can’t help myself when she touches me like this. I just want to let her have her way with me. Her touch scorches me, as her thumbs move over my nipples, then her hands slide to my back, exploring the sinews of my muscles. It feels electric, and I make an approving noise as I kiss along her jawline.

“Can I…?” I ask her huskily, reaching for the hem of her top, beginning to push it upwards. Rey nods, and she lifts her arms so I can slide the top up her torso and off. I smooth my hand across her taut belly, marveling at how my big hand practically spans her hips, and I am delighted to see she’s not wearing a bra. I can’t help but grin as I look down, admiring her pert little tits and her rosy nipples. I don’t wait, and I dip my head to kiss each breast, making her exhale a laughing little gasp.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?”

She nods, and I grin at her as I pull a nipple into my mouth, sucking lightly on it until I feel it tighten into a little pebble. I do the same to the other, enjoying the little purring noise she makes as her hands run over my shoulders. I lap at her breasts, mouthing them, pulling as much of one into my mouth as I can before letting it go with a wet pop. Rey is arching into me, eyes closed, making sweet little noises.

“I love your tiny tits, Rey,” I whisper, licking the underside of one breast, then moving to mouth the other, sucking it into my mouth entirely, then leaving it glistening with my saliva. “They’re so beautiful.” I nip and lick at the delicate flesh eagerly, reveling in the taste of her. When I look up at her, her face is flushed, and I cup a hand around a breast, enjoying how I dwarf it, how lovely and tan her skin is compared to mine. She’s everything.

I move back up to kiss her, pressing my lips to hers fervently, and she makes a little noise of pleasure into my mouth. She wraps her arms around me tight, pressing her bare chest against mine, and feeling her tight little nipples and her soft little breasts makes me shiver.

“Ben… please, let me…” she whispers, and I feel her little hand slide down to the front of my shorts and cup me intimately. I’m rock hard already, and the contact makes my hips lurch into her hand instinctively. I freeze, and I look down at her face, which is flushed and wide-eyed. She bites her lip, glancing away briefly, shyly, then turns back to me and kisses me with a deep yearning that vibrates through my soul.

I guide my hand to cover hers, and I unbutton and unzip the front of my shorts. I shift so my weight isn’t so fully on her body, and I guide her hand to the opening of my boxers. I can feel her hand tremble, and I nuzzle into her lips, then move to nip at her earlobe.

With a deft, delicate movement, Rey slips her hand inside my boxers and pulls out my cock, which is already glistening with precum. Her hand can barely wrap around my thick cock, and I groan, almost in pain at her touch. No one’s ever touched me, save myself, and it feels better than I could have ever imagined. Her fingers are like butterfly wings, dancing over the head, around my length as she explores the hot silken flesh of me.

Finally, I can’t take anymore of her innocent teasing, and I grumble, biting her shoulder lightly. “Please, Rey…”

I spit in my free hand, and I bring it to my cock, pumping it a couple of times to lubricate myself, before I take Rey’s hand and guide it to me. Rey begins to stroke me slowly, pumping up and down with her little hand tentatively. I can feel her eyes on my face, and I know I must be red-faced and panting, it feels so good. I lick and mouth at her neck, my fingers digging helplessly into her bony hip as she works my cock with her hand. My hips buck, and I eagerly fuck into her soft hand, my precum making the glide smoother as her hand’s movements become more assured.

“Just like that,” I groan, feeling my balls begin to tighten.

Her lips find mind, and I feel her tongue tease into my mouth for a heated kiss, her thumb circling over the head of my cock before returning to jerking me off in firm strokes.

“Faster…” I pant against her lips, and she complies, her movements almost frantic now.

I feel my body seize up, and I shudder violently as I cum, gasping as my eyes practically roll back in my head. My hot cum spurts and splatters over her hand and wrist, and I feel my cock twitch again and again until I can catch my breath and gently disengage from her hand. When I am physically capable of opening my eyes again, I see Rey’s golden-green hazel eyes peering into my face earnestly.

“Oh my god…” I sigh, reaching to kiss her, enjoying the taste of her lips, as always.

“Did… did you like it, Ben? Did I do it right?” she asks softly, pressing her lips to my cheek.

“You were perfect, Rey.” I nuzzle her cheek in return, and I can feel her cheeks lift in a little smile. I flounder around for something to clean off her sticky hand, and I pull away from her to forage in the glove box for some napkins. I even find some wet wipes, and I bring them back for her. She smiles as I take her hand and clean her up before pulling her close into my arms. I drop a kiss on her shoulder and tease a fingertip around each breast and over each nipple.

Rey’s nipples tighten again under the slightest touch, and I grin, nipping at her shoulder.

“I could touch you, too,” I suggest, trailing my finger down to the waistband of her shorts. “I want to make you cum, Rey.” My voice is just a whisper in her ear, and I feel a pulse of wicked pleasure when I see her shiver at my words.

“Relax, sweetheart,” I urge her, nipping her neck, her jaw, her earlobe, remembering vividly all our whispered, ardent phone calls, and I decide to take my cues from what she’d say during those heated moments. “Let me take care of you.”

After a moment, Rey nods, and I feel her shift more comfortably in my arms. She unbuttons and unzips her shorts and looks up at me with a little smile, and I can see she’s more intrigued than anxious. I kiss her lingeringly, sliding my hand inside her shorts to cup her sex gently. She feels so soft and warm through her panties that I can’t help but groan.

“Just tell me what feels good, okay?” I nip at her lower lip and meet her gaze steadily until she nods in agreement. I haven’t touched anyone like this, ever, and I want desperately to make her flush and cry out in pleasure. I want to hear her pretty little voice gasp my name. I want her to feel as good as I feel.

I nudge her panties aside with my fingers, letting my thick fingertips play clumsily over her delicate folds. I’m immediately shocked at how warm and she is, and I can feel her dampening at my touch. I nibble at her neck. “Mmm. You’re already wet.”

She closes her eyes with a breathy sigh, her color high already. I just continue stroking her, enjoying the petal-soft delicacy of her folds. They feel like silk, and I let my fingers slide along them carefully, wanting to know every millimeter of her sex. The more I touch her, the more Rey softens, relaxing into my touch, and her breaths grow deeper, and the more inspired I feel to keep making her feel good.

I lap my tongue at the curve of her neck as I let my middle finger trail up her wet center, drawing a bit of her increasing slick to the little nub at the top of her folds. She shudders almost violently as I touch her there, and I flick my tongue against her earlobe. “Sensitive?”

As Rey takes a shivering breath, I begin to circle her nub, her clit, letting her panting and her reactions guide my pace. As she seems to need it, I circle faster or slower, press harder or let up… I let her sounds guide me, until she is writhing beneath my hand, her body straining towards some supernatural power in the distance until she jerks and stiffens, gasping loudly as her body spasms, her soft little thighs shaking, and her hips jerking upward needily.

“Ben!” she cries, gripping the blankets beneath us, arching and whining. I feel like this is all I ever wanted to hear in life. I want to spend the rest of my life making her gasp my name like that.

I kiss her fiercely, wanting to taste those beautiful gasps, and I circle my finger faster until she lays trembling next to me. Her little breaths come in short pants as if she’d run a race, and she throws an arm over her eyes as she tries to gather herself. I can’t help myself, and as I flicker my tongue over her lips, I let my finger slip down to her sex, and she’s so hot and wet from her orgasm, that I slide my finger inside her. She’s exquisitely tight, and I can feel her inner muscles clench instinctively around my finger, making me groan against her lips.

“Ahh-ah—ooh!” she cries, bucking again, another shivery set of convulsions overtaking her, and I stroke my finger within her until she can breathe steadily again.

When she’s calm, I withdraw my finger, and curious, I lick the taste of her. She’s the sweetest nectar. A flavor from the gods. Drunk with the power of having given this sweet, sexy girl an orgasm, I collapse next to her, raining a torrent of satisfied kisses on her face and chest. She’s so beautiful. So perfect.

“Oh my god…” she sighs, looking over at me, looking flushed and happy and awed.

“I know.” I kiss her warmly. “I feel it, too.”

We slowly set our clothes to rights, and she cuddles into me, slipping an arm around my waist. We kiss tenderly, and she strokes her fingers through my hair, playing with my hair as she rests her head against my chest.

“I wish we could stay here like this,” she sighs. “Just you and me. No worries. No rules. No school. No work.”

I kiss the top of her head, smoothing my hands down her back. I wonder at her sudden glumness when summer is here, school is out, and her worries should be over. I see nothing but good things ahead of us—when she’s so warm and near, I can’t even fathom the possibility of a bad day. _Fuck_. I am drunk on Rey.

“I know. I wish I didn’t have to take you home.” I can think of a hundred things I’d rather do. A hundred places I’d rather take her.

“We can just live in the woods. Camp in your car. Catch fish in the river.”

I laugh, and I shift to pin her underneath me, kissing her again. “I don’t know. I’d rather live in a house with you. I like electricity and plumbing.”

“Are you trying to suggest you’re civilized, my darling sasquatch?”

Rey’s eyes glint playfully, and I caress my thumbs over her dimples as she grins. She hasn’t called me sasquatch since the day we met. It shocks me that it was only four months ago.

“Define civilized…” I say before licking the side of her neck sloppily, making her squeal.

+++

It’s hard to pull myself out of bed in the morning, when all I can think about is how Rey’s hand felt around my cock. I’m about to indulge in that fantasy when I hear my dad knocking on my bedroom door, announcing that pancakes are ready. Not great timing, but I am hungry.

I slump in front of my plate, simultaneously reaching for the butter and syrup, and my mother peers from over the edge of her newspaper at me, raising her eyebrows. I suppose I’m more disheveled than usual, wearing last night’s shirt—it still smells like Rey—and some baggy basketball shorts, and my hair hasn’t been combed.

“You look like you need some coffee, kid,” Dad observes, clapping my shoulder briefly before pouring me a cup.

“How was the party? You came home pretty late,” Mom comments, folding her newspaper and setting it down.

I reply quickly before shoveling a huge bite of syrupy pancakes into my mouth. “Good. We didn’t stay long—too crowded and noisy. We went to get food and hang out.”

My dad looks perplexed. “Since when did teenagers not like crowded, noisy parties? Is your generation defective?”

I glare at him, and I’m about to make a retort, but Mom interrupts, annoyed. “Han! Leave him be. Nothing wrong with a quiet night.” She turns to me. “Who were you with? Did you have fun?”

Dad shrugs and putters off to use up the rest of the pancake batter.

I sigh and sip at the bitter coffee. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but I never turn it down when it’s placed in front of me.

“Yeah, it was pretty fun. It was Poe, Gwen, Finn, Rose, and Rey. Ran in to some people we don’t like at the party, so we bounced and went to a diner. Took Rey home, and then came back.”

“I’m glad you went out—you think you’ll spend much time with them this summer?”

“Think so. Except for Rey, they all live on Fort Windu, so I’ll see ‘em around. I was already friends with Gwen from Chemistry, and Poe and I had PE together, so we’ll probably hang out a bit. Poe wants to run with me in the mornings, and Finn, too.”

“…and Rey?” my mom cheekily asks, slyly sipping her coffee. “Do you have plans with her?”

I feel my face grow hot, and I dip my head letting my hair hang in my face. “Yeah. She’s got a job, but since I’ve got the Wagoneer now, I can go pick her up on her days off.”

“She’s not driving yet?” Dad asks, looking perplexed as he puts the final plate of pancakes in front of mom and me. “I could have sworn…” he says, drifting off. He shrugs.

I dive in for another pancake or three, while mom shakes her head, patting her belly.

“Han, I’m not going to pass my next PT test if you keep feeding me like this,” she groans. He shrugs and kisses the top of her head before he sits down next to her.

“You like me better when I make you pancakes,” he says with a little smile, and my mom grins at him in a way I find entirely too personal at the breakfast table.

“Uh, no,” I reply to his question, looking at my plate to avoid eye contact as I think about her driving around town with just her learner’s permit. I still don’t like it, but she needs to go to work. “She doesn’t turn sixteen until next month, so she can’t take the final drive test yet.”

“She’s only fifteen?” Mom seems strangely alarmed, but I nod. “She’s such a little adult. But I guess that’s teenagerdom—half kid, half adult.” She smiles at me with affection and gets up from the table, ruffling my hair as she walks by. I rankle at being called half kid when I’m going to be out of the house in a year, starting my life. Going to college, picking a major, finding my way.

“What’s your big plan for the summer? Bagging groceries and…? Waiting for Rey to get off work?” Dad cuts in, quirking an eyebrow at me. He’s already sounding less than impressed, and I’m annoyed he’s waited until the first day of summer vacation to suggest my plans are less than stellar. I vaguely wonder if he’s going to keep finding reasons to find fault with me, just like in Chandrila.

I shrug. “I guess?” Doesn’t sound so bad to me. Running, working out with my punching bag, making tip money at the commissary, hanging out by the pool, and spending time with Rey—talking to her and kissing her and all the other things we want to do.

Mom is rinsing her coffee mug in the sink, and I see her consider my dad’s question. “Maybe you should take an SAT prep class. Don’t rising seniors usually test in the summer in time for college applications in the fall?”

I’d pretty much bombed the PSAT out of sheer spite at the start of junior year, because we’d still been in Chandrila, and I had been struggling to catch up in my classes after effectively blowing my sophomore year. My GPA isn’t great, either, even after my good grades this last semester in Jakku, and I realize that I’ll need a solid SAT score. And some extracurricular activities. Fuck. I sigh.

“Okay. I can do that.”

My parents look at each other in shock that I am not arguing against this idea.

The idea of sitting in a classroom doesn’t appeal to me, but I actually do want to go to college, so that’s that. I figure I need to find something else to do to build my college applications, too. Community service? A club sport? I realize I need to talk to Poe and Finn. They’re joiners. They’ll know what’s around town.

Mom seems pleased with that reply. “When are you going to bring Rey back over here? Do you think she’d like to have dinner with us tomorrow? She doesn’t need to be shy just because… just because.” _Tactful, Mom_ , I think snarkily. I know my parents will fawn all over her like they always do, and she’ll see everything is fine.

Dad brightens at the idea. “Yeah, bring her over here. She’s got a great sense of humor—laughs at all my jokes. Unlike _some_ people,” he says with a faux glare in my direction.

“Say something funny, then, Dad!” I scoff, getting up from the table. When he grumbles, I grab an apple from the fruit bowl. “Good pancakes, though.”

“Scram, kid,” he mutters, but I can see him smiling before I leave the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, readers. I care about you, and that’s why I finally gave you some smut. Happy month six of pandemic life. 
> 
> Ben drives a 1989 Jeep Wagoneer. Behold the splendor: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAh-877oflM


	20. back around the corner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Working at Plutt’s. Dinner with Ben’s parents. Down by the river.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Working at Plutt’s is hot and miserable. There’s no air conditioning in the warehouse, and even with the bay doors open and the giant fan blowing, it’s grueling to sit there with the soldering tools all day. Plutt stomps by yelling at me to hustle so the delivery schedule can be met, and when the truck arrives for pick-up, Plutt grabs me by the arm and shoves me in his office, out of sight. It hurts the way his fat fingers dig into the bruises that are already there from the party.

“Stay clear of the drivers, girl. They don’t need to know ya.”

I don’t know if this is because he thinks they might do something to me or if he just wants everyone to stay in their lane. Probably not the former, because given that he’s stingy with water breaks in the hellish inferno that is the warehouse, I don’t think my safety is paramount. At this rate, however, I’m more like to die of heat exhaustion than be assaulted.

The only thing that keeps me going is knowing the money is good, I can leave early because it’s Sunday, take a cold shower, and see Ben.

The icy water in my shower feels blessedly wonderful after the long day, and I scrub myself clean with a new bar of soap, scouring the grease from under my fingernails. I didn’t singe on the soldering tools myself too badly today, for once. I towel my hair briskly, and I study my face in the bathroom mirror pensively. The bruise doesn’t look so great on my temple, but I rummage through old makeup I’ve inherited from Rose and find a compact with some powder. I brush a little power over the bruise to conceal it, and it mostly works. I decide to part my hair differently and hope that adds a little cover, as well.

I realize I’m fussing more than usual, feeling awkward about seeing Ben’s parents. Ben says they’re happy we’re together again, but I still feel strange that they’re aware of at least some of what’s gone on between us. My stomach twists as I wonder if they secretly disapprove of me, especially whent hey know I made Ben so unhappy before. The worst part is that sometimes I feel like they can see straight through me, especially Ben’s mother. Not in a bad way—they’re so kind to me—but they are observant in a way I don’t really want or need.

When Ben arrives, I stop checking to make sure my bruise is concealed, and I pull a baggy flannel on over my tee shirt to cover the dark bruises on my arms. It’s hot outside, but at least I can anticipate cold air conditioning at Ben’s house as reason for wearing flannel in the summer.

As soon as I’m in Ben’s wood-paneled Wagoneer, we lean to kiss one another with a happy press of our lips, and I feel butterflies just seeing the way his eyes crinkle above his toothy grin. He looks me over with an appreciative glance, even though I’m not dolled up the way I was on Friday. Much less skin is showing, and my clothes are more along the lines of cozy and a little rumpled since I couldn’t get them out of the dryer fast enough. Ben’s dressed the same as always—his black tee shirt fits nicely across his broad shoulders and chest.

“You won’t believe how much food my dad is making,” Ben says, as we drive through the main gate of Fort Windu. “I think you’ll be going home with lots of leftovers.”

I shake my head at that. Ben’s mom says I look like a stiff breeze could knock me over, and she wants to make sure that doesn’t happen. “They really don’t have to do that… but the leftovers are better than my own cooking by a longshot,” I say with a laugh. “I can microwave vegetables and make ramen or those flavored pasta noodle mixes.”

“That’s barely cooking!” Ben declares, looking at me, appalled. I think he’s starting to think I’m the one who’s not civilized, despite the way all our friends keep calling him sasquatch. He’d seemed thoroughly distressed when I’d poured ketchup all over my fries at the diner, even though I’d told him that just dunking each fry individually in ketchup was inefficient. All the ketchup should go on all the fries, all at once. Duh.

“It involves a stove! It’s cooking!” I fuss at him. “I add water, I boil noodles, I stir. It’s a whole… cooking… thing.”

He groans, and after he parks his car in the driveway, we head into his house where his parents are busily chopping vegetables for a salad in the kitchen. His dad notices me first and brightens immediately, grinning that same charmingly crooked smile as his son.

“Rey! Come sit down, kiddo. How are you? How’s your aunt?”

He’s so warm, his face so open and easy, I feel my anxiety begin to melt, and when Ben’s mom drops her paring knife and comes to hug me in greeting, I see that Ben was right. They aren’t angry with me. I’m so relieved, that I must squeeze Mrs. Solo a second longer than she was anticipating, and she studies my face for a long moment.

“I’m fine—we’re both fine, thanks. Really glad school’s out, Mr. Solo. How are you?” I glance between Ben’s parents, and I smile as I feel Ben sit next to me, sliding his arm around my waist.

“Well, I haven’t started wasting my retirement watching _The Young & The Restless_, so I’m proud of myself for that,” he says with a laugh. “Planning a fishing trip with Benny for Father’s Day.”

I glance up at Ben and he nods. “We’re going out to the lake, renting a cabin and a boat. We used to fish a lot before getting posted to Chandrila.”

Ben’s mom grins. “And I get to stay home and have the house to myself for a change. No sports on the TV. No smelly socks all over the living room. The toilet seat isn’t left up. Paradise.”

“You make it sound like you’re living with animals,” Ben complains mildly.

“Not at all, honey. I live with Solo men. That’s much worse,” she teases, as Mr. Solo shouts, “Hey!” in protest.

“It’s just nice to have a little girl time. Rey, would you indulge me? Would you come have lunch with me, maybe go get our nails done, while these two scoundrels are out of town?”

Oh god. My pulse thrums nervously as if to warn me to say no, but there’s no way I can. Her smile is so bright, and she gives my arm a friendly squeeze. While Ben has his dad’s crooked grin, his mother’s face has the same brilliant smile—an attractive face that turns radiant when pleased. I plaster a smile on my face. “That sounds really great. Just let me know when, and I can adjust my work schedule.”

Alone with Ben’s mother. And her laser-like focus. She means so well, but just the thought of it gives me chest pains. I won’t be able to deflect her questions so easily without Ben and Mr. Solo there to provide interruptions and distractions. And obviously, she’s not easily distracted like her son—it just takes a few kisses, and I can turn his attention.

She smiles happily. “Wonderful. I haven’t had a proper girls’ day in ages.”

Dinner progresses much as it always does, with Ben pretending to be suffering a slow and agonizing death under his parents’ teasing, me giggling at his dad’s terrible jokes, and always, blithely glossing over their questions about my home life.

_Yes, Maz is well. No, really. Maz’s heart condition is stable. She’s excited for me to get my driver’s license next month. Oh no, we don’t need anything. Everything is fine. No, Maz knows how many hours I work. It’s summer, so she’s fine with it. She knows how badly I want a computer. Maz is proud of me. Maz is so glad I have made such good friends this year. When she feels up to it, she’d like to meet Ben._

Ben’s parents shoo me out of the kitchen when I offer to help with the dishes, but not before his mom pats my arm to make me hold still while she brushes my hair away from my face, her inquisitive brown eyes, so similar to Ben’s, peering at my concealed bruise with a frown. She pauses as if she’s going to ask me about it, but I just shrug with a wry grin. When I hear Ben shouting that _The X-Files_ is about to start, she motions for me to run along before turning to Ben’s dad with a concerned frown.

+++

Ben and I kiss almost frantically, parked in front of my trailer. His big hands run down the sides of my neck, thumbs stroking over the hollow of my throat as he nips at my lips then moves his tongue against mine almost aggressively. I sigh into his mouth, gently raking his scalp with my fingernails, curling my fingers through his thick, black hair. After a few heated moments, I need to breathe, and I pull back, teasing him.

“I thought you already ate…”

“Hmm?” he grunts, nudging his long nose against my neck before growling and biting under my jaw.

“You’re eating my face off,” I whisper, pushing a hand against his chest, and I can feel his heart hammering. I fan myself slightly, feeling flushed. I can’t help but smile at him.

“Oh…” he says, chagrined, then laughing at himself. He kisses me more gently. “Sorry. Just… I lose myself with you. You’re all I can think about.”

I nuzzle my lips against his in a gentle return of his kiss. “S’okay. We just… need to breathe. Pace ourselves.”

We laugh a little as our foreheads touch, and I clasp his fingers in mine, enjoying the beauty of his hands—he’s got large, beautiful hands like a marble statue. I’ve seen pictures of Michelangelo’s David, and Ben’s hands are just as perfect.

“What are you doing this week? Do you want to go swimming?” I ask him. “You’re getting the hard cast off your hand this week, right?”

Ben sighs. “I’ve gotta register for an SAT prep class. And I need to find a community service project to put on my college applications. But yeah, we can go swimming when I get the cast off. You want to come to the pool on post? We can get Finn and Rose to come with us. Maybe I can get my dad to let us use the grill?”

“That’d be fun,” I agree. “…do you know how to grill?”

“I’ve mastered the manly art of cooking meat over an open flame.”

“Of burning meat over an open flame?”

Ben sputters with mock outrage. “You insult me, madam? I’ll have you know I come from a long line of grill masters.”

I nod, showing him my best unconvinced face. “Uh huuuuh.”

My teasing seems to inspire Ben. He leans across the center console to grab me and tickle me with a low growl, and I wriggle helplessly under his playful attack. His fingers squeeze and flutter over my sides, then under my tee shirt and over the sensitive skin of my stomach and my rib cage. He stops when he comes to the edge of my bra, and he gives me a pouty look.

“You wore a bra today?” He sounds so disappointed that I just laugh.

“I usually do… you’ve just been very lucky lately. I know I don’t really need one, but…” I shrug.

Ben slides his hand underneath my bra to cup my breast, making me inhale a shaky little breath. He kisses me, his lips warm, as he gently kneads the soft flesh.

“D’ya think Maz is sleeping? Can I come inside…?” he asks huskily. I’m so tempted to say yes it hurts. If we just stayed in the living room… But it’s too close to exposing my ongoing charade, and I can’t. I just can’t risk having anyone in there.

I sigh unhappily, and I caress his cheek as I return his kiss.

“The walls are so thin. Your big feet would make the whole place shake like an earthquake was happening,” I tell him, and he pulls his hand out from my bra, thoughtfully pulling it back into place before sitting firmly back in his seat.

He gives me a sidelong look, and I can’t tell if he’s hurt or suspicious or both. “It’s really weird that I’ve never been inside your house. You know I don’t care that you’re poor, right? You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

I blanche slightly and look at my hands. “I know you don’t care about that. I don’t either, honestly. I’m not ashamed—we own this place, it’s clean, it shelters us… it’s enough. It’s just… I can’t have you inside because of Maz. She knows we’re friends, but she thinks everything we do is, uh… supervised.” I bite my lip slightly, thinking fast.

“She’s very old-fashioned… she’s 85, Ben. The moment she sees you, she’ll freak out.”

“…why?” he sounds perplexed.

“You’re too big and handsome,” I declare. “She’d know I was in trouble of falling for all kinds of sweet-talking the moment she put her eyes on you.”

Ben laughs. “I can be a very good boy and keep my hands to myself.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think her heart condition can handle the sight of you. I don’t have a heart condition, and I can barely handle it.”

I’m flirting with him shamelessly, trying desperately to change the subject.

Ben finally sighs, and even though I can tell he’s still pouting a bit, he kisses me on the cheek. “Alright, then. See you Tuesday? Maybe go to the river?”

“Sure. I’ll call you when I get home from work.” I give him a brief kiss and a smile, and I hop out of the Wagoneer and collect the bag of leftovers. The Solos are perpetually convinced I’m not eating enough. They’re correct, as much as I try not to let on. I don’t exactly refuse the food, either.

“G’night, Ben.”

He watches me from the car until I unlock the front door of my trailer and slip inside. I wave at him, and after I hear the tires groan over the gravel drive, I sigh and lean back against the door.

The excuses are getting harder to come by.

+++

Plutt’s is hellish again, and when the delivery drivers come by, I’m stuck in his office, which is somehow even hotter than the rest of the warehouse. They seem to linger and linger, and eventually I hear shouting between Putt and the drivers. There’s a sound of a scuffle, metallic noises as if some of the folding chairs from near my work table are thrown, and the familiar sound of a fist cracking against flesh. By the time the truck departs, and I’m allowed out of the office, Plutt is bleeding from his mouth and in a far worse mood than ever.

I don’t dare to ask any questions, and I get back to rewiring the stack of VCRs on my table.

When I get home, I see Rose has left a message on my answering machine, so I give her a call back. After a few rings, she picks up.

“Tico residence!”

“Hey, Rose. It’s me.” I yawn, and I poke my head in the fridge to pull out a small container of the pasta salad the Solos sent home with me the night before.

“Reeeeey. I don’t know what I’m going to do. My mom is making me take an SAT class this summer. I’m not even taking it until next summer!”

I laugh slightly, pulling the lid off the pasta salad and using a fork to shovel some into my mouth. “Maybe she just wants you to study all year and ace the test and go to Harvard and be president?”

“Paige is going to be home all summer, and instead of hanging out with her, I have to do this class! It’s not fair!”

“Rooooooose,” I sigh. “It’s going to be fine. Ben said he has to take an SAT class—maybe you’ll be in it together? And maybe you can drag Finn into it?”

“You should do it, too! You said you can arrange your hours however you like, right?”

I groan. “Mmm, those classes are out of my price range, Rose.” SAT classes are hundreds and hundreds of dollars that I don’t have. The SAT itself is out of my price range. As is college.

“Oh. Well, darn. I’ll just give you the books when I’m done, then. Hey! When am I going to see you again? Did you get pictures back from the asshole?”

“Ben wants to have a small swim party and cookout—you and Finn? Poe? Paige, since she’s coming home? I think it’d be fun… and no, I haven’t heard from the asshole--yet.” It’s concerning. I thought he’d be a lot more eager to get those photos back. He hasn’t contacted me, then again, he is a coward. He’s got to be planning something else. I might have to ask Ben to talk to Hux to help me arrange a meeting. Ugh.

“Boooooo to the asshole, yes to a swim party!” Rose cheers. She’s irrepressible as always. I realize briefly that I need some more girl time with Rose—I need her advice on how to handle Ben’s mom wanting to take me out to lunch. This is so far outside my realm of experience, I can’t even think of one word I’d say to the woman, as much as I admire her and want her approval. Is she going to tell me that I’m not good enough for her son? Or that she won’t let me see him again unless she meets Maz? Fuck. I’m terrified.

We chat for a few more minutes before hanging up, and I call Ben to let him know he can pick me up whenever he likes.

+++

Apparently, whenever he likes amounts to right this second, because I’m barely out of the shower when I hear the tires of his car grind over the gravel drive and come to a stop in front of my trailer. I’m still wrapped in a towel, and I know in a matter of seconds, he’ll be knocking on the door when he doesn’t see me barreling out of it to greet him the way I usually do.

Aaaand there’s the knocking. I hesitate, wondering if I should keep him waiting while I dress, or just go to the door as-is to ask him to wait for a few minutes or… and he’s knocking again. Shit.

I wrap my bath towel tighter about myself and run to the door, cracking it open the barest of slivers to look up at him.

He grins down at me, apparently amused. “C’mon, I’ve already got our food.”

“Five minutes, Ben!” I plead with him, and that’s when his eyes alight on my bare shoulders, then lower to the frayed old terry cloth towel I have wrapped around me.

He presses a hand against the door, his smile growing a little wicked. “Can I wait inside?”

“No!” I whisper. “I told you, Maz will get mad!”

Ben laughs and winks at me. “I’ll be in the car. Let’s go to the river.”

Not too much later, I’m in the passenger seat of Ben’s car. I’ve pulled on a tank top and some cloth shorts I won’t mind wading in—assuming we’re going to wade like last time. Ben has commandeered the radio this time, smacking my hands away from it.

Marcy Playground’s Sex and Candy plays on the radio, and Ben mumbles along barely audibly, even though I tell him I like the way his deep, rumbly voice sounds when he sings.

_And then there she was_

_Like double cherry pie_

_Yeah there she was_

_Like disco superfly_

_I smell sex and candy here_

_Who's that lounging in my chair_

“Rose is taking an SAT class, too, this summer,” I supply when our conversation lulls briefly as Ben parks a little deeper in the trees, a little closer to the riverbank. “So you’ll have company, at least.”

“That’s good.” Ben’s rummaging for the sandwiches and chips he bought for our dinner, and I slide out of the Wagoneer to help him carry our food and blankets down to the riverbank. Summer means long days, and we still have plenty of sunshine on our side.

We set up, spreading a blanket and a couple of towels on the sandy riverbank. Ben crashes onto the blanket next to me with a grin and reaches for a bag of chips. He’s all long limbs and shaggy hair, and he slouches into me. I lean back, enjoying the solid warmth of his big body.

“What’d you do today?” I ask, unwrapping my sandwich, the waxed paper crinkling under my fingers. I grin seeing it’s an Italian sub, the oily dressing dripping from the white hoagie roll. Yessss.

“Went for a run. Bagged groceries for a few hours. Scheduled the SAT class—starts next week. Six weeks of that mess—can you believe it? I convinced Poe to take it. Gwen might.”

“And if Rose takes it, you know Finn will,” I say with a laugh. “Sure you haven’t had enough of everyone after Driver’s Ed?”

“At least the only risk is death by boredom and not Poe’s driving,” Ben muses. “I wish you could take the class. If you want, I can share my books and stuff with you, so you can prep, too. I know you’re busy working, but if you wanted…”

I nod slightly, chewing thoughtfully on my sandwich. “Maybe. The juniors are required to take the PSAT this fall. Even if we aren’t taking the SAT.”

Ben’s shoulder bumps mine. “But you have to take the SAT, too. For college.”

I look sidelong at him and shrug. He offers me some chips, and I reach in eagerly.

“I dunno. My GPA’s only average. No sports or clubs. I don’t think so.”

I’m a good student, but I’d struggled through most of my freshman year, caught in a fog of grief from losing Maz. Only math had made any kind of sense, so at least I’m still in advanced classes for that. If Poe hadn’t needed so much help in Physical Science, pleading so forlornly with those big brown eyes of his, I probably would have just blurred through that class, as well. I’d spent this year trying to make up for last, as much as I could. I’d gone from mostly Cs to a collection of As and Bs.

Ben snorts. “I can guarantee my GPA is way worse than yours, and I don’t really have any extracurriculars, either. With a good SAT score, I can get into a decent school. Otherwise, I’m going nowhere.”

Going nowhere. That’s not likely for Ben. That’s more my thing. I smile up at his bright face and intelligent, sensitive eyes, and after a moment of consideration, I kiss him warmly. He tastes like Italian sub and barbecue-flavored Lays chips

“You’re going to do great on that test, and you’ll have another semester to get more good grades to bring up your GPA,” I tell him. “You just need to find an extracurricular. What are you thinking of? Volunteering somewhere?”

“Mmm. I only need one extracurricular,” Ben whispers, and he slips an arm around my waist to pull me into his lap and kiss my neck. “I’m the president of the Rey Sands Fan Club.”

“Ben!” I laugh. “Be serious. What are you going to do?”

He groans and buries his face against my shoulder. “I don’t know. I know I want to volunteer somewhere I can be helpful. Really do some good, you know? I was so awful in Chandrila, and I feel like I’m so spoiled now, and I don’t deserve any of it. It’s not fair that I’ve got things so easy and others don’t.”

He sounds so thoroughly miserable, his voice glum. I see a shadow cross his face, and I think it’s remorse tinged with guilt. I wonder what could have been so bad that he thinks he needs to prove his goodness, when I know how good he is. I kiss the side of his head and slide my arms around him for a tight hug. “There’s no such thing as easy, Ben.”

I don’t doubt this for a minute. Ben might have so many things I can only dream of—but I still know he struggles. He’s told me enough of what happened in Chandrila to know that his anger flares wild and dangerous if he isn’t in control. Just being alive can be tough. His guilt makes me sad—and I wonder if seeing me struggle makes him feel worse. I wish I could take that thought back from his head.

“I think you’re amazing, and wherever you volunteer will be lucky to have you. And your college applications are going to be fine.”

I can feel his lips turn up in a smile at my words, and he presses another kiss against my neck before finding my lips.

“But what about you? You need an SAT score to go to college. You can at least say you worked, or maybe this year you can join a club.”

He sounds so curious, so concerned, and I can see his brown eyes searching my face, as if he needs to reassure me that I can have everything, too. _I wish I could, Ben_ , I think. I really don’t want to have this conversation right now. College isn’t something I can afford, and I’m hardly in position for a scholarship. Not everyone comes from families who can give them things. And I don’t want to have a pity party.

I slide out of Ben’s lap and stand up, reaching my hand out to him. “I’ve got a year to think about it. C’mon, Solo. Let’s count turtles.”

“Turtles? Do you think I really came out here to count turtles?” Ben grabs my hand and gives it a tug, causing me to tumble down next to him on the blanket, laughing helplessly.

“It got you so excited last time!” I tease, leaning over him for a kiss.

Ben growls and rolls me beneath him, and I find myself thoroughly pinned. He’s heavy, and he cages me between his arms, but I only feel safe and happy.

“I’ll show you excited!” he rumbles at me, before he bursts out laughing. He can try to play to dark and gloomy, but he can never keep a straight face. His big hands slide under my gray tank top, and he frets over the hem of the simple bandeau I’m wearing instead of a proper bra. I can feel him puzzling it out, then he just decides to pull it down and push my top up to look at my breasts. He’s so triumphant that I have to laugh at him.

He leans down to lap at each nipple with his tongue, his touch more playful than filled with intent. Ben’s plush lips press kisses against my small breasts, and I close my eyes, just enjoying his touch. I ruffle my fingers through his hair and caress the outer curve of his big ears, as Ben takes his time, exploring my chest with his mouth. His lips are so soft against my skin, I feel myself relax, every cell in my body seeming to soften the more he touches me. I gasp when he nips at the underside of one breast, then the other.

“Just you today,” he murmurs in my ear as he slides his hand flat down my stomach, pausing to admire how big his handspan is compared to my waist, my hips. I’m wearing thin cotton shorts today, having anticipated wading in the river and not wanting to ruin anything nicer, but that means no buttons or zippers for Ben to fuss with. He eases my shorts down, and he slips his hand between my legs, letting his fingers brush over the soft skin of my inner thighs until I shiver.

Far more confidently than last time, Ben traces the seam of my sex through my panties, mouthing at my neck, whispering filth to me that makes my toes curl. When his blunt fingers move the fabric aside and begin to stroke intimately, making wetness pool shockingly fast, I know I’m done for. The ripple of heat is already curling and wavering low in my belly, and I groan, nipping at his ear.

He finds my clit and begins to circle. “Do you like this, Rey? You’re nice and wet already,” he says to me, raking his teeth against my bare shoulder.

“Feels good,” I whisper, arching slightly into his touch. I’m already panting and feeling my tight inner muscles clench.

“I’m gonna make you come on my fingers.” His voice is low, practically a growl, and I shiver. Ben’s finger slips down from my clit, and I make a little sound of disappointment that Ben covers with his mouth. “Tell me if this feels okay.”

With that, I feel Ben’s thick middle finger tease between the folds of my sex before it slides slowly inside me, eased by my slick arousal. I arch, feeling the intrusion, and I can’t help the way I grip around his finger greedily. We both moan at the sensation, and Ben begins to gently pump his finger in and out of me as he kisses and bites at my breasts.

In no time, I’m a shivering mess, and Ben begins to push another finger inside me, which makes me grab his arm and breathe shakily. It’s a tight fit, and it pinches a little—he’s got those beautiful, marble statue hands.

“I can’t believe how tight you are,” he breaths into my chest, licking a stripe between my breasts.

“I want you to come for me now,” he says, his voice demanding, his tone making me shiver eagerly as he places the heel of his hand on my clit, grinding down while his fingers thrust within me, making my vision blur until I can no longer see the trees above me. My hips press up as I try to push myself harder against his hand, feeling a ripple turn into a wave that crashes inside me.

“Ben!” I cry out, jerking violently, spasming around his fingers. My hands dig into his shoulders, and I whimper through the aftershocks when he eventually relents his pressure on my clit and withdraws his fingers.

He kisses me tenderly before straightening my panties, and tugging my shorts back into place. While I watch, he looks up at me, his eyes heated, and he casually licks the fingers that had just been inside me.

I pull my bandeau and tank top back into place, and I prop myself up on my elbows. I’m sure I’m pink-faced, disheveled, and more than a little sweaty. Ben rolls onto his side, looking smugly satisfied as he props his head up on his hand.

He seems rather proud of himself, and I suppose he should be.

“Well, you’re a quick study.” My words escape with a breathy laugh as I collapse back onto the blanket.

“Your body is far more interesting than the SAT books.”

I give him a playful kick for this. “What am I going to do with you, Ben Solo?”

He flops back next to me, and I can feel him trying to refrain from laughing.

“I think you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this chapter was extremely light on plot. I just wanted to take a break, set the mood, and establish a few things: SAT classes/Rey not planning on college, Plutt’s being potentially dangerous for various reasons, and Leia wanting quality time with Rey (UH OH?). I just needed to get these threads going, so… yeah. Anyway, bonus fingerbanging for my patient readers. 
> 
> Working for Plutt is not only sketchy AF, it’s an OSHA violation. Heat illness is no joke! 
> 
> Marcy Playground - Sex & Candy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KT-r2vHeMM


	21. navigate the roundabout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Ben is stressing the F out about Rey and life. Rey and Ben confront Snap and Hux.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s late on Wednesday night, and I’ve been searching the internet to learn what organizations in Jakku need volunteers.

Mom says I’ve been hunched like a goblin over my computer all afternoon, but I did take a break to be social and eat dinner. Or at least try. She gives me funny looks as if she’s trying to suss out something in between bites of dad’s taco casserole--the casserole is not great, but at least he’s branching out from spaghetti. At any rate, mom’s scrutiny is practically making my skin itch with irritation--and finally I grunt in frustration at her, feeling my temper surge. We’re supposed to _talk_. That’s what we’d agreed on in counseling.

“What!? Do I have something on my face? Did I leave a pair of dirty socks in the living room?”

I shove away from the table, muttering, but before I can leave to stomp back up the stairs, my dad raises his voice as he stands up from his chair. He holds his hands up as if calming a particularly dangerous beast.

“Now hold on a minute, kid. Come back to the table. We want to talk to you about something that’s worrying your mother and me.”

I drag the chair back to the table, frowning at them, and Dad sits back down.

They’d agreed to be direct with me, so their whispering behind my back for days now hasn’t really made me feel at ease. It feels like when they were trying to figure out how to deal with me in Chandrila.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing we know of. But yeah, you did leave your dirty socks on the couch again.”

Dad tries to give me one of his crooked smiles to show everything is okay, but a quick look at Mom’s face tells me that while I might not be in trouble, I’m definitely being called out on something major.

“Benny, I’ve struggled in how to ask you this, so I’m just going to come right out with it. How did Rey get a bruise on her face?”

I look between my parents’ expectant faces. Dad looks grim, and Mom is keeping her face studiously neutral. I feel a sick twisting in my stomach. This is why they’ve been looking at me funny? This is why they’ve been having hushed conversations that end as soon as I walk into a room?

“You don’t think I…” I croak out my words, barely able to catch my breath. So much for Mom always telling me how good she thinks my heart is, how much progress I’ve made. I’m just a monster to them after all. I clutch the edge of the table as my vision starts to spin.

Mom’s neutrality instantly breaks, and she’s at my side, rubbing my back.

“NO, Ben. No, no, no,” she assures me. I feel my body go limp, and I sag against the back of my chair. When did my heart start racing? I need to breathe.

“I didn’t think that for a minute. You’re so careful with her.”

“I love her,” I rasp. “I’d never hurt her like that. Why have you been looking at me like I did something wrong? Why couldn’t you just ask me?”

Mom presses her cheek to the top of my head. “We didn’t know how to ask.”

“Obviously.” I snort, and I let my mother hug me before letting me go.

“We’ve been worried that you’re keeping things from us, son.” My dad’s voice sounds tired, but now that I’m calmer, I can hear that it’s kindly again. “You’ve got this nice girl, and she’s wearing long sleeves in summer, and she’s barely an inch away from having a shiner. What’s going on? Is someone hurting Rey?”

I see my mom squeeze my dad’s arm to make him stop talking for a moment. I need that moment, too, because I’ve got to figure out what I’m going to tell them. I guess I can tell them the truth. Most of it.

“What your father’s trying to say, Ben, is that we can’t just sit here and pretend not to see when she’s potentially being abused. If I don’t get a better sense of what’s going on, I’m obligated to call the state to investigate.”

Alarm slides down my spine. I hadn’t realized that they were thinking she looked that bad.

“No one’s abusing her!” I say defensively. “She just got into a scuffle at the party on Friday. I’d gone to the bathroom, and this guy got handsy with Rey. She wasn’t interested, and by the time I got back, he was shoving her into the doorjamb, and she hit her head.”

My parents don’t react. They sit there in stunned silence.

“Did you kick his ass?” my dad asks me, his expression thunderous.

“HAN. We do NOT encourage fighting.” My mother’s look is so severe that I laugh, and they both look at me incredulously.

“I didn’t have to. Rey slapped the hell out of him and kneed him in the balls. We left right after that.”

My dad looks sidelong at my mom and mouths back at me, “Good for her.”

Mom still looks fretful, and she sits heavily in the chair next to mine. “I wish you’d tell me when things like this happen. You’re certain Rey is safe? No one at home is hurting her?”

I nod. “I swear. She’s alright. And we don’t plan on going to any parties where we’ll run into that jerk who grabbed her.”

My dad ruffles my hair slightly as he begins picking up the dinner plates. “I’d tell you to take care of her, Ben, but it sounds like Rey’s a fighter.”

I smile wryly, but I see Mom is still frowning, still concerned about Rey. Well, get in line, Mom.

+++

When I’m back at my desk, I review the list of places I want to call tomorrow. Food banks and charity pantries take up most of my list—they always need people to work inventory, pack meal boxes, and help process new applications for aid. And, honestly, though I’m not sure I could tell her this without making her feel self-conscious.

Ever since she confided that she has to work to make money for her household, I can’t help but think of how hungry she could be without her school lunches, especially with school out for the summer, and it makes my heart twist helplessly.

At least she lets my parents send leftovers home with her after dinner. They’ve started making extra everything on nights they know she’s coming over, and it’s always presented in such a way that she never feels embarrassed to accept.

I sigh, looking over the list of food banks and charity pantries. There must be a lot of hungry people in Jakku. Maybe they’ll let me help them.

As I reach for my computer mouse, intending to log off, AIM chirps with a new message notification. Poe. Heeeere we go again.

**ImPOEssible** : SAT claaaasssss! You ready to prime your brain to get a perfect score, Solo?

 **xXBenOSXx** : Are you this excited about everything?

 **ImPOEssible** : …yes?

 **xXBenOSXx** : At least we can suffer together?

 **ImPOEssible** : And you call me the optimistic one.

And because there can never simply be one person annoying me late at night on AIM, I get a notification from Hux. Ugh.

**HuxSupreme** : First of all, FUCK YOU, Solo.

 **xXBenOSXx** : And second of all?

 **HuxSupreme** : Fuck your tramp girlfriend, too.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Got anything else you want to say?

 **HuxSupreme** : If that bitch doesn’t give me the photos, she’s going to regret it. I’ll get a lawyer if I have to.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Not a great idea. Aren’t you known to have shared her photos without her consent? She hasn’t shared yours. Yet.

 **HuxSupreme** : Give me her number. I want to talk to her myself.

 **xXBenOSXx** : Nope. Tell you what. Meet me at the bleachers at the practice fields behind the school. Bring Wexley. Bring Rey’s negatives and photos. Friday, 8.pm. If you don’t show, or you don’t bring the pictures and negatives, neither of you gets your pictures back.

 **HuxSupreme** : You were such a moping piece of shit when you arrived. Then you got your first whiff of tail, and you dump your friends for trailer trash.

 **xXBenOSXx** : We were friends? Anyway, be there on Friday, or every girl in Jakku is going to see your shriveled dick.

I sit back and grin. I’d wondered how long it would take for Hux to come screaming with self-righteous anger, frothing at the indignity of being threatened in this way. I think I’ve correctly guessed that Wexley is far too much of a coward to confront Rey or me himself. He’s the kind of guy who likes people around him to do his dirty work. And Hux is perfect for that—desperate to feel important. It gives me a certain satisfaction knowing that we’ve got them cornered; that they’re afraid of what we’ll do.

It’s late, but I know I need to tell Rey. At least she’ll let me help her with this problem.

I log off the internet to free up my phone line, and I call Rey.

+++

I don’t sleep well. Despite Rey sweetly whispering dirty things to me while I jerk myself off at the end of our phone call, I can’t relax. My thoughts spin wildly the longer I lay in bed.

I’m thinking about Rey. I’m thinking about getting those photos back for her. I’m thinking of how she shouldn’t have to work so hard. I’m thinking of how I still feel like a monster because of what I did in Chandrila. I’m thinking of how if I don’t get a good SAT score I won’t get into a decent college. I’m thinking too damn much. My skin feels like it’s going to crawl off my body.

I lay in bed for hours, before I finally fall asleep to fitful dreams filled with shattering glass and crunching bones and anguished sounds of pain.

When I wake the next morning, scarcely a few hours after I’d finally passed out, the agitation is still there, and I’m already sweaty from the nightmares.

It’s a relief to burst out of the house on a run before the sun comes up. The streetlamps are dimming as the sky slowly gets brighter, and the only sounds are soldiers running in formation and doing their PT exercises. I pick up speed, hoping to outrun the images that are still flashing in my head from my dreams, knowing I need to tire myself out a little so maybe I can catch a brief nap before breakfast. With my hand still in the cast until Friday, I can’t slam out my frustrations on my punching bag.

The sun is up by the time I get home, and I startle my mom, causing her to spill her coffee, as I barge through the front door into the foyer. She’s already dressed in her uniform, back from her own early morning PT with her soldiers, and she looks harried.

“Jesus, Ben!” she shouts, swiping at her uniform.

“Sorry!”

I run to the kitchen to grab paper towels, and she follows me, stomping grumpily. I shove them at her and busy myself with getting a glass of water. It’s hot outside already, and I’m dripping with sweat.

“I’m surprised you’re up already,” she mutters, patting at the wet spots. Thank goodness for camouflage.

I don’t really know how to put into words the whirl of thoughts that are skittering like waterbugs across my brain. At least my run tired me out, and I don’t feel as turbulent.

“Couldn’t really sleep. Just thinking too much, I guess. Volunteering. SAT.” That’s putting it mildly. That’s only about half of what ails me. And I would be betraying Rey if I told my mom about any of that. I fret slightly, then continue. “Um, I had some bad dreams about Chandrila.”

Mom must already be running late for work, but she just points at the breakfast table for me to take a seat, and she loads the toaster with slices of bread, and she proceeds to open the fridge door to grab the grape jelly she knows I like. I feel suddenly less tense, having her attention.

“Just noises. Impressions. I saw Cal’s face.” _His face, bruised and bloodied, one eye swollen shut. Permanently_.

Mom gives me a singularly compassionate look that makes the frustration in me sink like a pebble in a pond. At least for a moment. I know she must be thinking of the terrible report cards and the MPs dragging me home at all hours and the bloodied clothes from the fights.

“You’re going through some interesting times, Ben. New people. New challenges. It must be the stress making you think of all that,” she tells me gently.

“I feel like maybe my brain is reminding me that I can’t just be normal. That I’m still a monster.” My voice is low, and I look up at my mother from under my shaggy hair. She’ll probably start telling me to get it cut in another week or two.

“Benny,” she sighs. “You can’t change what already happened, but the future’s not set. You know that, right?”

I nod. I’m trying to let that idea into my heart. “Yeah, but it feels unfair, too. I got to walk away like nothing happened, like everything is okay.”

Mom brings over a plate with my toast, and she kisses the top of my head even though I’m disgustingly sweaty and probably smell like a dying goat after running for a solid hour in the muggy Jakku heat. Only when I’m sitting can she kiss the top of my head. I’ve been taller than her since middle school.

“Sweetheart, you did a bad thing. But I know you—I know your heart. I wish you would stop torturing yourself. Think of all the good things that have happened since coming to Jakku. You earned perfect grades in your classes. You have a job, and you got your driver’s license. You’ve made friends. And you have a very pretty girlfriend, too.”

This last sentence is said teasingly, and I blush, deciding to look down at my toast and studiously slather butter and grape jelly on it.

Mom squeezes my shoulder before speaking. “My advice? Take things slowly. You start the SAT class next week. Make some phone calls about volunteering. And _relax_. It’s going to be a wonderful summer. You’re having friends over to grill out this weekend, you’re going fishing with your father, and I’ve already booked a condo in Myrtle Beach for the last week of July.”

Myrtle Beach? I raise my eyebrows, and I ask the first thing that comes to mind, my sundry concerns suddenly seeming smaller. “Can we bring Rey?”

Mom quirks an eyebrow, then laughs, as if she’d already anticipated I would make this request. “Sure, Benny. Why not?”

+++

“Ben, are you sure?” Rey whispers to me as I lead her to the bleachers on the athletic field behind our high school. The sun has dipped below the horizon, and the field lights are beginning to flicker on, illuminating the neatly mowed grass field with its painted lines but casting shadows that are just as deep. Cicadas whine and rattle loudly, and the air feels sticky.

“What if they won’t make the trade without proof?”

Rey seems to vibrate with nervousness, and I take her hand in mine—finally free of the damned hand cast, at last—and I give it a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“They’ll make the trade if they know what’s good for them.”

She climbs up to the third row on the bleachers and I follow her, and I pass her the plastic bag containing four disposable cameras. Rey perches uncomfortably next to me on the seat, and I peer at her curiously. I’ve felt energized all day knowing this meeting was coming. Rey had seemed relieved that I’d set up the exchange and would be with her, but the bravado she’d worn a week before seems to have diminished.

“Are you okay? You seem shaky,” I say to her softly. “Where’s the girl who kicked Snap in the balls last week?”

Rey huffs a little laugh, and she relaxes a tiny bit. “I’m ready for this all to be over, and I don’t want to be around him. What if he starts his garbage again?”

I stroke my thumb over her knuckles. “Then he’s going to get a nasty surprise, isn’t he?”

I feel more resolute than ever with my backup plan. I haven’t forgotten the way fear had spasmed across her face when he knocked her head against the doorframe during their altercation last week, nor have I forgotten how she’s still sporting bruises on her face and arms that are turning slowly from purple to green. Wexley has more than shown his stripes, and there is no way he is getting treated to a clean deal. It’s either this or break his face open, so he should count himself lucky.

He might be getting disposable cameras today, but they’re empty. The real cameras are back at Rey’s, secured in her room. I’d bought the new cameras today at the PX after leaving my bagging shift at the commissary, and when I told Rey what I thought we should do, she hadn’t really argued the point.

“I don’t want to be underhanded, but I think you and Gwen are right. They can’t be trusted. Not really.”

Rey’s voice is wistful, and I wonder at it for a moment, before realizing she’s simply sad that some people aren’t decent on any level. I’ve already learned that lesson, and I know it’s a hard one, knowing you can’t just assume people will be honest and good. And Rey wants people to be good. I know when she looks at me, she can’t fathom the things I’ve done.

“They can’t. But that’s not your responsibility, and you don’t have to feel bad about it. Save your heart for people who deserve it.”

“For you, then?” she says, lightly, and I see her eyes fill with a playful amusement that is heavily mingled with affection.

“I’ll take such good care of it,” I tell her, cupping my hands around hers. I could almost forget what we’re here for, and I begin to dip my head so I can capture her lips in a kiss, but then I hear a familiar, sneering voice. Hux.

“Jesus fuck, Solo. You are thoroughly whipped.”

Hux is rolling his eyes, and his hands are shoved into his shorts pockets. He looks thoroughly put-out at being here. Rey stiffens angrily, and she starts to stand up, but I pull her back down onto the bleacher seat. We’d agreed that I’d take the lead. Well, I’d told her that I wanted to, because I didn’t want her within an arm’s reach of Snap. She’d only arched an eyebrow at me.

Hux and Snap round the corner of the bleachers and stand in front of us, a few rows down. Snap looks red-faced, as if he simply cannot believe he’s here, and petulance curls at the corners of his mouth.

“Let’s make this quick,” I tell them, pulling my hands from Rey’s. I rise and walk down to the bottom of the bleachers, leaving Rey and the bag of disposable cameras seated.

Snap is glaring past me at Rey, his eyes trained on the bag of cameras, and I can feel the simmering rage rippling off his body. The waves of anger are palpable. I know this kind of anger. I know the way it zips underneath the skin and flows through the veins. The way it tangles around every cell and organ until it strangles coherent thought. I’ve felt this way.

“Let me have the photos and negatives.” I hold out a hand expectantly, and Snap takes a step closer, pulling a blue and white photo envelope out of his pocket.

“Give me mine, first.” His eyes flicker back to my face, his mouth set in a line.

“I didn’t develop them. I wasn’t going to waste money on that,” Rey says, coming down the bleachers to stand beside me, holding up the bag with the empty disposable cameras. I felt a thrum of displeasure that she hadn’t stayed put as I’d hoped, and I glanced down at her with a frown.

“Hand them over, and you can have the envelope.”

I start to speak, but Rey’s elbow bumps mine, indicating she wants to reply.

“No. I’m not giving you anything until I see what’s in the envelope.” Her voice is like steel, and her tone suggests no quarter will be given her enemies today, after all.

Snap glowers, and he tugs out three 3x5 photo prints, holding them up. Rey’s slim form is on each of the prints. He tilts his head and smirks when he sees Rey’s face redden in anger.

“Satisfied?”

“I want to see the negatives.” I can feel the control it takes for her not to lunge for those pictures. I think he can feel it, too, because his anger seems to twist into something more like arrogance.

“Cameras first.”

“Negatives first.” She spits back at him.

Hux looks like he just wants to die of frustration, and his pale face is getting blotchy with the heat and humidity of the summer night and probably no small amount of irritation, too, and he shoves Snap in the arm.

“Just give her the fucking negatives! For fuck’s sake, Snap. You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

Snap gives Hux a venomous look, and he holds out the envelope after tucking the pictures back into it. I reach for it, but before I can grasp the envelope, Snap’s free hand shoves me in the chest, hard, nearly sending me backwards into the bleachers.

“I’ve changed my mind. Hux, grab the cameras,” he snarls, and Rey gasps, jerking back with the bag. But Hux just looks at Snap, astonished.

“What are you doing? Give them what they want!” His voice is shrill, and his blue eyes are bulging.

Snap’s distracted enough that Hux isn’t doing exactly what he says, that I lurch forward and snatch the envelope from his hand and give him a retaliatory shove that sends him staggering a few steps. That just gives him enough power to wind up, however, and his face is grim with determination as he launches himself forward at me, shoulders lowered like a bull’s.

Snap is not as tall as I am, but he’s broad and sturdy, muscular like a wrestler, and he tackles me around the middle, sending us both tumbling to the ground. The wind is knocked out of me, and I stare stunned at him as he swings a fist into my ribcage, his rage and frustration spiraling out of him like a tornado. That first pulse of pain triggers my own response—the near cracking feeling making me grunt and swing back at him with my newly healed fist.

It connects with his jaw with a satisfying sound, and I hear Rey gasp behind me before she lunges, just a blur of skinny limbs and bobbing brown buns, for the envelope with the photos and negatives, which I’d dropped on the ground upon Snap’s impact. She jams the envelope into her pants pocket, then without hesitation, she drops the bag of cameras and launches herself at Snap’s back to shove him off me.

“Get off of him!” Her voice is fierce, fiercer than I’ve ever heard it, but Rey doesn’t have the speed she needs or the mass to make much of an impact, and Snap grunts and twists to fling her off him easily.

Rey hits the ground hard at Hux’s feet, making a frustrated noise. Hux reaches down to take her arm and haul her to her feet, and it’s so astonishing that Rey doesn’t even think to shove him away, and I’m just staring at him like he’s grown another pasty ginger-haired head. Snap isn’t really interested in what’s going on behind him, and he pulls back his arm to punch me again.

“You think you’re going to fucking blackmail me?” he roars, and as his arm swings down, I just barely manage to grab his wrist and we lock in a struggle of wills. “You and that little bitch?”

“That is the plan,” I grunt, finally gaining some traction in the grass and using that to roll him under me and press my forearm across his throat. I fight the urge to press harder and harder until his face turns purple, because now I can add the mental image of him throwing Rey to the ground on my list of things Snap Wexley needs to pay for.

“Hux, get the fucking cameras!” Snap bellows again, but it’s an increasingly hollow sound, especially when he realizes Hux is just standing there, looking disgusted by the proceedings.

“Get them yourself. I’m leaving.” Hux glares at Snap, throws up his hands, and spins on his heel to leave. He strikes a tall, gangly figure in the shadows cast by the playing field’s flood lights.

Rey is suddenly at my side, quickly scooping up the bag of cameras and grabbing my free arm with a small, steady hand.

“Come on, Ben. Let’s just go.”

I spit in Snap’s face and shove against him brutally as I stagger to my feet, breathing hard. It takes every ounce of control I have not to kick him in the ribs until he spits blood.

“You could have handed the photos over and walked away. Now you get nothing,” Rey says steadily, looking down with an expression that is surprisingly kindly, as if she’s explaining something complex to a misguided child. Snap seethes on the ground, scooting backwards to get away from where we stand.

“The next time you say or do anything that makes me angry, you won’t like what happens next.”

Her voice might be sweet, but the intent is not. I feel such a pulse of pride for her, for the ferocity of spirit that guards her compassionate nature. Whenever I think I’m going to rescue her, she’s always there to remind me she has her own strength.

Rey’s slender arm slips around my waist, and I know she can feel my near-frantic desire to hurt Snap cycling through me. But with her there, the searing heat of my anger steadies into something cooler, something more controllable.

She tugs at me gently, and we leave Snap Wexley behind us on the playing field.

+++

When I kiss Rey goodnight on her doorstep, I cup her face in my hands as I savor the softness of her lips. I feel less of a monster, and I think my mom might be right. The future isn’t set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a twit: @junkyardjeditr1
> 
> This was a tough chapter to write! I rewrote it about three times.
> 
> I’m not super happy with it, but it’s shoving everything forward, at least--a little bit of plot, a little bit of character building. Ben’s kind of a mess—feeling the need to prove himself worthy and quietly freaking out about everything. Rey keeps digging deep and finding strength—especially with Ben at her side.
> 
> Snap continues to basically be a narcissist of the nth degree, but it turns out that Hux has *some* kind of moral compass after all. A teeeeeeeeny tiny moral compass.
> 
> I like to think that seeing Snap’s willingness to selfishly renege on an agreement that has potentially dire consequences for him made Hux see that this isn’t the best alliance in the universe. He’s still a jerk, but perhaps not the worst one ever.


	22. four way stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Pool party/cook out. Phone call. Date night. Rey is thirsty. Han lives to embarrass teenagers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You are such a nerd, Rey!” Rose is laughing and splashing me.

“I am not! There’s nothing nerdy about wanting to see _Fight the Future_!” I protest, kicking water onto her. “Ben’s taking me as soon as he gets back from his fishing trip so we can to learn the truth about the alien conspiracy!”

We’re perched on the edge of the Fort Windu pool, and I’m wearing my old one-piece green bathing suit, talking to Rose’s sister Paige. I feel a lightness in my heart ever since retrieving my pictures, and I steal a glance across the pool, looking for Ben to give him a smile.

The late afternoon sun is bright but fading into early evening, and every color seems more vivid than usual. The blue pool water sparkles, the white lounge chairs gleam, and the red-striped umbrellas along the pool deck are crisper than candied apples.

We’re all wearing sunglasses and broad-brimmed sunhats and feeling very Hollywood glamorous. Gwen is busy striking a volleyball back and forth with Finn, her lanky reach well-suited to the game. Even Kaydel is playing along, casting smiling glances at Gwen.

Paige splashes Rose, too, laughing cheerfully. “ _The X-Files_ is very sexy. You’ve got some nerve, baby sister.”

Rose gives me a sly look. “Rey would think it’s sexy. She likes her men tall, brooding, and cryptid, after all.”

I’m about to push Rose into the pool for that when Finn shouts from across the pool, grinning effervescently. That guy should sell toothpaste, I think affectionately. “Solo! When are you feeding us?”

Ben’s over by Poe in the shallow end, and he looks up from their conversation.

“We can head back now,” he replies, and he starts heading to the ladder to climb out of the water.

I take my legs out of the pool and shimmy into some loose shorts and a long-sleeved shirt over my suit, and I go grab Ben’s hand, turning him around so I can look at his flushed face.

“You got too much sun. Your ears are all pink!” I fuss over him a bit, and he patiently lets me. He’s already rather pink, and I know Leia’s going to give him a scolding for not wearing enough sunscreen. This boy just doesn’t tan.

“Your mom is going to make you soak in a vat of aloe vera.”

Ben just laughs, and he holds my hand as we walk with everyone back to his house, where Han is already firing up the grill.

+++

“Mrs. Solo—I mean, Leia—” I catch myself. Both of Ben’s parents have been trying hard to get me to use their first names, but it seems so odd to me. This is Jakku, North Carolina, and it’s not really done. This is yes, sir and yes, ma’am territory. But for them, I try to relax the protocol that has been drilled into me since birth.

“Ben wants to know if there are any more bags of chips?”

Leia looks up from the folders of paperwork she’s been studying, and she smiles as she closes them and slides them aside.

“Pantry,” she replies, getting up to lead me over there. As I open the indicated door, Leia surprises me by putting a hand on my elbow and turning me to face her. I’m struck again by how petite she is. I’m easily half a foot taller than her, and yet she projects such dignity and power, it’s like she’s at least as tall as her son.

Before I can ask her what the matter is, she’s looking at my head and the yellowing bruise on my temple with pursed lips. Not for the first time, I wonder if her intelligent brown eyes ever miss anything. “The bruise is looking better. How are your arms?”

I’m speechless, and my mouth opens and closes. I squeak out a response after a few incredibly long seconds. “Fine. Just a few fading bruises.”

“That’s what Ben said,” she says. She lets go of me and proceeds to dig in the pantry cabinet, pulling out more bags of chips and handing them to me. Ravenous teenagers can do a lot of damage—hotdogs, burgers, beans, potato salad, and chips were being consumed in mass quantities.

I shift from one foot to the other uncomfortably. I don’t really know what she wants me to say.

“If people are hurting you, Rey, you do know you can talk to me, right?”

“I… thank you, Leia. But honestly, it was just one little fight. And, uh, don’t worry. Maz was really mad and called the guy’s father. I don’t think she’s going to let me go to any parties for a long time, either.” I finish off this last sentence with a helpless laugh.

“Okay, then. Sounds like she’s looking out for you.” Leia looks over my face, and I guess she is satisfied, because she pats my elbow with a friendly smile. “Now scoot! The longer you’re in here, the more likely the rest of the horde will come looking for you and the food.”

She doesn’t need to tell me twice. I’m eager to get back outside where Poe is dominating the conversation with his increasingly ridiculous stories so he can impress Paige’s sister. I think he’s trying a little too hard, but Paige seems thoroughly amused. Rose and Finn are snuggled together, and when Poe starts talking about Driver’s Ed, Finn cuts in with some teasing about Poe’s driving skills that make him blush in front of his college-aged crush.

Everyone cheers when I materialize with the chips, and after I hand off the bags, I sit next to Ben on a cushion on the patio. He tucks me under his arm and brushes his lips against the side of my head.

Ben’s parents check in every now and again, but this is probably a far more sedate gathering than they had anticipated a bunch of teenagers would have on a lazy summer night. Gwen and Kaydel leave first, thanking me for the food, and they give a cheery wave before heading out. Gwen’s always been a little taciturn, but Kaydel’s naturally sunnier nature seems to make her lighten up.

By the time we get everyone out the door, it’s past 10 p.m., and I am rubbing my eyes sleepily. When I’m packing up my things so Ben can take me home, he suddenly groans as if in mortal pain. I give him a confused look, instinctively reaching to touch his arm to make sure he’s alright.

“I wish I didn’t have to take you back,” he says with a lengthy sigh.

He won’t get home until after 11 p.m. because of this. I make an apologetic face. “I know, I’m sorry. It’ll be better after I get my license next month. Then you’ll only have to take me to the gate, and I can take my own car home.”

I feel the familiar thrum of anxiety, talking about my license like that’s even an option for me, but I shove that uncomfortable thought to a dark little box in the corner of my mind where I keep other things I don’t want to think about. Even if I could drive legally, I wouldn’t be able to get onto Fort Windu—I’m not eligible for a permit to drive on post since I’m not affiliated with the Army. I’ll have to park in the main gate’s visitor lot and wait for Ben to come get me. It’s still a shorter trip for him, at least.

“Can’t I just keep you?” he asks, wrapping his arms around me, and leaning down to kiss my cheek with a noisy smack. “I’ll make sure you get home first thing in the morning.”

I laugh and wriggle in his arms, but Ben holds me tight, pressing more kisses to my cheeks. And admittedly, I wonder what it would be like to wake up with him next to me in bed. I feel flushed just thinking about it.

“Ben! Your parents would be scandalized, and Maz would die of shock.”

“I knoooow. But driving tired is dangerous, too. You remember that from Driver’s Ed.” His voice is teasing, and when he releases me, I grin at him and head to the foyer.

As I pass, Han pokes his head out of the kitchen, and he points at us with a warning glare that is tinged with humor.

“Drop her off and come right back. No necking. You’ve got class in the morning, and she’s got work.”

I make a strangled noised of embarrassment, and Ben whips around to glare at his father. Of course, Han doesn’t look remorseful in the slightest. His eyes are positively gleeful, in fact, to get such a reaction.

“Dad!” Ben throws my hands up in the air. “I know that!”

“You sure about that, Benny? You come home a little later every time you take that girl home.”

Han snickers, pleased with the blow of mortification he’s dealt us, and he meanders into the foyer. He casually ruffles my hair as I cup my hands over my face, unable to make eye contact, and he heads upstairs, calling back to me, “G’night, kiddo. See ya around.”

+++

Ben puts his Wagoneer into park in front of my trailer, and he leans over to give me a quick, chaste kiss. Han’s words are still ringing in our ears, and I know I’m still the color of a tomato.

“Sorry. Now you know how I feel every waking moment of my life,” Ben mutters, giving a wry little laugh.

I groan and lean my head back against the seat, eyes closed, enjoying another wave of mortification. “So this is what it’s like to have parents?”

“Pretty much. The good news is this means they must really like you if they’re prepared to treat you as badly as they treat me.”

We laugh, and I want so badly to tumble into the back of his Wagoneer with him and kiss every beauty mark on his face and touch him until we’re both panting helplessly, but we’re living under the specter of parental embarrassment.

“I better go, or they’ll think we’re out here necking, and then they’ll call Maz to tell her I’m a bad influence.”

“Maybe I’m the bad influence.”

I shake my head at him in disagreement. Ben isn’t the one lying to everyone— _I am_.

“Trust me. I’m the one who’s trouble.” With that, I kiss Ben’s cheek and slip out of the car.

+++

Ben picks up the phone on the second ring, and from the sound of it, he’s still rustling around his bedroom, getting ready for bed.

After coming home from my long, miserably hot day at Plutt’s, I showered, and now I am curled into bed with all my pillows surrounding me, bolstering me as I snuggle down for the night. Being in the heat all day makes me lose my appetite, so I’m just drinking some of the Gatorade I’d made from the mix Ben had given me. He was so sweet and funny about it, lecturing me about electrolytes and proper hydration in hot weather, only stopping when I kissed him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, not even bothering to ask who’s calling him. He knows at this point—it’s me.

“Hey! How was your SAT class? Are you ready for Harvard yet, Mr. Smart Guy?”

I can practically hear his smile, and I scooch more comfortably against the pillow I have propped at my back.

“I might need at least one more class before I’m ready for Harvard. Two more classes if Poe doesn’t stop interrupting the instructor with questions.”

I laugh and stretch. My shoulders hurt from hunching over the table all day. “Did you see Finn and Rose?”

“Oh yeah. Finn sits next to me. He’s laser-focused on this, but Rose doesn’t seem too worried about the material.”

“They’re both on the 4.0 roll—different methods, same results.” It’s true. Rose works hard, but she’s confident—her philosophy is to never let them see you sweat. Finn is always desperately serious until he realizes whatever he’s attacking isn’t that hard.

“It’s going to be a tough six weeks. I’m going to have to do _homework_.” His voice is so grumbly that I can’t help but smile into the phone. I can picture his look of despair and the way the hair falls over his forehead when he’s feeling dramatic.

“Not homework!” I say in my most horrified of tones.

“Oh! That reminds me. My parents booked a condo in Myrtle Beach for the last week of July, after the SAT class is over. Would you like to come with us? Mom says it’s okay with her if it’s okay with Maz. We wouldn’t be sharing a room or anything. You’d get the bedroom, and I’d be on the pull-out in the living room.” Those last sentences sound a little disappointed, and I roll onto my back, holding back a laugh.

“I’ve never been to the ocean before,” I admit softly. Jakku is only a few hours from the coast, but it might as well be in the far reaches of the galaxy. Maz had always wanted to take me, but there had never been enough money, and then she got sick. We made our own fun, anyway. She took me to the city pool and to the lake a few times. The thought of her with her giant sunglasses and huge straw hat sitting poolside with me makes me smile.

“Then you need to go. Will you ask Maz?”

“I’ll ask her in the morning when she’s up. I don’t think she’ll have a problem with me going. She knows your parents are respectable.” I chew at the inside of my cheek. It would be so nice… normal, even. A summer trip to the beach with Ben. But missing a week of income…

I suppose I’m too quiet, because Ben’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “Everything okay, Rey?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I was just thinking that I’ll need see if Plutt will give me extra hours to make up for the beach trip.”

Ben’s silent, and I frown, feeling awkwardness rush over me.

“Sorry. Just, you know how it is for me, Ben.”

He heaves a sigh, and I can picture him running a hand over his face in frustration. “I know. Sorry. I didn’t even think of what missing a week of work might mean for you. Can I… Can I help? Please?”

“N-no, Ben, it’s fine. I’ll just put in some overtime.”

Another silence blooms between us, heavy and a little sullen, and I feel tears stinging at the corners of my eyes.

“Rey, I—”

I cut him off, trying to keep my voice steady. I know he means well. I know it. But it was risky enough to tell him money was such a big issue, and he doesn’t deserve to have me shove my problems on him. He’s not responsible, not obligated. I feel a pulse of fear, knowing that if I’m too much a burden on him, he won’t want me anymore.

“I swear, everything’s okay. I’m just trying to get ahead this summer, that’s all. You’re so… you don’t need to…” I sigh. _You’re so goodhearted, Ben. You don’t need to worry yourself sick about me, Ben._

Ben hums slightly on the other end of the phone line, and I crumple a little over the disapproving sound. “Okay. Hey—I’m leaving Friday morning for the fishing trip. Can you come over? Or we can get dinner somewhere? I don’t want to go anywhere without seeing you.”

His tone shifts, and he sounds so earnest, I can’t help but smile, and I wipe my eyes. “Rose and Paige are picking me up on Thursday to hang out—I can walk over to your house after?”

“Mm, alright. Can I come get you tomorrow?” Knowing Ben, it’s going to be another trip to the river where we’re _definitely_ not counting turtles.

“I’ll call you when I get home from work,” I promise him--my sweet Ben.

+++

Ben’s mouth is sucking a small bruise under my clavicle, and I can feel his body vibrating with need as he slides a hand between my thighs, caressing the soft skin there before cupping me intimately through my shorts. I grind into his hand instinctively, and I slide a hand down his smooth, muscular torso, enjoying the slight fuzz of his happy trail under my fingertips.

We’re both panting in the back of his Wagoneer, parked by the river, as has become our custom. He groans slightly as I begin unbuttoning his shorts, tugging the zipper down so I can palm his erection through his boxer shorts. His hips jerk slightly, he’s so worked up already. We haven’t been parked long, but we’d been short on words after our awkward conversation yesterday.

He takes my wrist and holds my hand against his groin, and he rocks into my hand.

“Rey.” His voice is low and throaty as he murmurs against my breast, “I have a condom, if you… if you want to…”

I feel myself tense inwardly, muscles clenching at the thought of doing more than our… usual… But my heart speeds up almost painfully and sweat beads on the back of my neck and trickles down my spine, and I roll into him, burying my face in the curve of his neck.

“I’m sorry… not ready… sorry…” I murmur, kissing his neck in apology.

He gives slightly chagrined little groan, but he turns his head so his plush lips can graze tenderly over my cheek, and I feel the anxiety ebb away. “S’okay, sweetheart. Don’t be sorry.”

Ben pulls his hand from between my legs to caress my jaw instead, his fingers brushing against the back of my neck as he presses warm, loving kisses over my face, quietly letting me know he won’t push further tonight, that I’m safe in his arms.

I can still feel the hunger in his body, and I gently free his cock from his boxer shorts, curling my hand around the base of his thick length. He surges in my hand, his eyes closed, lips parted as he breathes a ragged breath. The head of his cock is already wet with precum, and I use it to lubricate him as I glide my hand from tip to root in smooth strokes.

“Come for me, Ben,” I whisper to him, marveling in the smooth iron of his cock, enjoying how he trembles under my touch.

My lips touch his, nipping and licking in quick little kisses the way I know he likes, and he heatedly licks into my mouth with his tongue, causing me to sigh in response. In my hand, his cock feels hot and heavy, and he begins to thrust in my grip, faster and faster, until he gasps and comes all over my hand with a full-body shudder.

Ben pants and kisses me soundly, smoothing the hair away from my face as he touches his forehead to mine.

“Sorry… didn’t mean to make a mess,” he says softly, groaning as he pulls away to reach for some tissues he’s got stashed.

Ben cleans me up, and we snuggle back together after we pull our clothes to rights, content to cuddle close under a blanket, talking about how much we’re going to miss each other over the weekend. Ben curls his hands around mine, bringing them up to his lips to kiss. He toys with my fingers, exploring each knuckle with the lightest touch.

He gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry about before. I didn’t plan on trying to go all the way with you today. I guess it was the heat of the moment…”

“It’s okay. I’m not upset--you were sweet when I said no,” I reply softly, leaning to kiss him. “But I’ve been thinking a little about it.”

Ben is all eager attention, and he squeezes my hands, urging me to say more.

I blush slightly and rest my head against his shoulder, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat; it’s as solid as he is. “I’d like it if our first time together wasn’t in the backseat of your car!” I blurt out after a moment.

Ben’s chest starts to shake, and he starts laughing, wrapping his arms around me tightly. “Okay. That’s fair. We’ll just have to figure something out.”

+++

“Well, I’m used to giving advice on what to wear for dates and to parties, but I’ve never given advice on what to wear when you’re going on a date with your boyfriend’s mom,” Rose says, chattering at me with a sparkling grin, unable to hold back the amusement shining in her eyes.

Paige reclines on Rose’s bed, ankles crossed, flipping through a Cosmopolitan magazine. “I can’t remember any of my high school boyfriends’ moms wanting to spend the day with me.”

Rose snorts. “That’s because you’re you. Rey’s a lot nicer.”

Paige glares without a hit of malice, and she flings the magazine at her sister from across the room, and it just sort of flutters and falters and misses its mark entirely.

“So I think she wants us to get our nails done and go to lunch at a restaurant,” I say nervously from my seat on Rose’s bedroom floor. I’m drumming my hands on the tops of my knees. “I need to look, um, I don’t know. Like I’ve actually been to a place like that before.”

The Tico sisters glance at each other in some confusion, then back at me. “Rey, you’re not going to a ball at Buckingham palace. It’s a nail salon. And there aren’t even any fancy restaurants in Jakku, so casual is going to be just fine.”

I shake my head. “What am I even going to say to her? Ben’s mom is nice, but I’ve never been alone with her. What if she hates me? What if she decides Ben shouldn’t date me anymore?”

I don’t know how I can tell them that I’m afraid that Ben’s mom will see too much if she spends the day with me. She’s always watching and studying me during dinners at the Solo house, and she’s already asked me some difficult questions. Alone with her a few hours? That could blow up my whole little universe.

I feel Paige’s fingers brush through my hair from behind me in a comforting gesture, and I close my eyes.

“Why would that happen?”

 _There are so many reasons, Rose._ Any sane parent wouldn’t want me around, and Leia and Han are eminently sane.

Rose is digging through her closet, looking for a shirt for me to borrow. “Just be yourself. She just wants to know you better. And don’t forget she’s surrounded by men all day, every day, and she doesn’t have a daughter—just that big ol’ grunting sasquatch of a son.”

“You make him sound like a zoo animal,” I complain, but further statements are cut off as she shoves three different tops into my hands. “Try these on. And a zoo animal? Not even. He’s still untagged wildlife, running free.”

+++

I have two different tops secured in my backpack when I knock on the Solos’ front door, feeling at least mostly confident that when Leia picks me up, she won’t be appalled by my appearance, nor will her perceptive eyes catch any frayed edges or dull spots from too many washings.

Han lets me in with a broad smile. “Hey, kiddo.”

The Solos’ foyer is piled with coolers and gear and all sorts of things Han and Ben will need at the cabin they’ve rented, and I high-step carefully over everything, then drop my own bag by the stairs. Han points me toward the kitchen and the garage door.

“He’s in there doing his workout. I don’t think he’ll mind if you interrupt.”

Han returns to the kitchen island to continue chopping cauliflower and other vegetables for dinner, and I slip through the door to see what exactly Ben is up to. I know he has a big standing punching bag, but I’ve never seen him use it. Until now. _Oh_.

Ben is assured as he moves with a fluid grace that belies his size, and I find that I am mesmerized. His feet move quickly as he throws one powerful jab and crossbody punch after another into the back with a hearty thwack. The bag rattles from the force of impact.

And Ben, _well_ , he’s tall and broad-shouldered, _and shirtless and sweaty_ , my brain supplies helpfully. Every time his arms swing and he hits the punching bag, I can see the brutal force he possesses. His eyes are sharp and focused, his face reflecting primal intensity. Watching his arms flex, his muscles bulging, it does something low in my stomach, and I practically gulp watching him. He’s _gorgeous_ and _fierce_.

I’m not sure how long I stand there before he notices me, and he steps back from the bag. He’s breathing hard, his hair hanging in his face, dripping sweat. Every sinew of his arms and chest flexes as he moves to greet me, the concentration on his face lightening into happiness.

“That was amazing,” I exhale, and I’m sure my face is shining with delight at having witnessed him in action. My face might be shining with other thoughts, too.

Ben’s face breaks into a broad grin, angular and crooked and bright and charming. “Yeah?”

“You’re beautiful,” I tell him. “Graceful, powerful… I don’t know if my heart can take it, Ben Solo.” 

Even after all this time, after all the sweet nothings and words we’ve exchanged that are both ardent and tender, Ben blushes under my gaze. He rubs the back of his neck almost bashfully, his eyes flickering to mine, then down to my lips.

Without further hesitation, Ben pulls me into his arms, and he may be sweaty, but I don’t resist. His lips crash down against mine fiercely, and I slide my arms around his neck.

After a long moment, I make a small, happy noise into his mouth and we both grinning into the kiss, his tongue darting against my lower lip, asking for an invitation. “Maybe we should—”

The thought is interrupted. The garage door swings open, and Han saunters into the room and staggers to a stop, the expression on his face shifting from alarm to warning to humor. Ben and I jump apart, red-faced, and I suddenly have a desperate need to see if my shoelace is properly tied. Ben awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, and he meets his father’s eyes.

“Uh, hey, Dad. Is dinner ready?”

Han rolls his eyes and motions for us to get in the house. “In about thirty minutes. That’s enough time for you to shower and change. Alone, hmm?”

_Oh my god._

Han Solo is apparently hellbent on killing Ben and me through the sheer power of humiliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I thought this story would be done in ten chapters? Well, I just upped the chapter count to thirty, and I have an idea that won't be the last time... omg.
> 
> Welp, looks like Rey’s getting in good with the Solos if Han thinks she’s open season for humiliation hours! I bet that beach trip is going to be loads of (embarrassing) fun. 
> 
> I hope you’re ready for Rey’s big day out with Leia!
> 
> The X-Files: Fight the Future came out Father’s Day weekend in 1998. I can still quote most of that movie, I watched my VHS of it so darn much. I'm pretty excited for Rey and Ben to see it so they can revel in the non-kiss due to a BEE. A BEE???
> 
> Come find me on the Twits--@junkyardjeditr1


	23. straight ahead only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Fishing trip w/ Han.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s still dark out when Dad and I leave for our fishing trip. We’re headed to a lake a couple of hours outside of town, where Dad has rented a cabin and a boat for us to use. The back of the Jeep Wagoneer is piled with coolers, fishing equipment, and random gear we’ll need for the next couple of days’ I haven’t been alone with Dad like this since middle school, before Chandrila.

Days alone without mom as a buffer, or even Rey’s spirited conversation to distract him from his quest to grill me with pointed questions or tease me mercilessly—this should be interesting. At least we’re not warring with each other the way we used to. Then again, he hasn’t started in on his endless dad jokes, though I do want to ask him to lay off mocking Rey and me.

Dad’s driving since I’m still groggy from the way he’d woken me up, shouting enthusiastically and flicking the lights on and off in my bedroom. Mom had shushed him, kissed me on the cheek and wished us a good trip, and made her way out the door at 4:30 a.m. for PT.

“You’re not gonna just grumble this whole trip, are ya, kid?” he asks me after about twenty minutes, and I groan and rub at my eyes.

“I’m not even awake, Dad.”

“It’s good for us to do this. I’ve been lookin’ forward to it. Finally get a chance to really talk.” He cheerfully drums his hand on the steering wheel.

I nod, propping my head in my hand tiredly. Dad continues.

“Talk about whatever you want. School. College. Old stuff. New stuff. _Girls_. I’m, uh, I’m here.”

Girls? Oh no. Oh no no no. Firstly, there is only one girl. Just the one. Secondly, it is too damn early in the morning to discuss girls with _anyone_ , let alone my father. I decide to change the subject.

“Hey, can you stop at the next gas station? I’m really hungry.”

+++

The packet of mini chocolate donuts was good. I don’t ordinarily eat these, but there’s something about being on the road that makes them the only acceptable breakfast choice. The chocolate is waxy and coats the roof of my mouth in a greasy film, and the yellow cake on the inside is crumbly. Every bite is perfection, I think, as I wash it all down with milk, and I laugh when dad grumbles about the metabolism and cast-iron stomach of the average teenaged boy.

We get to the lake around noon, and we store all our stuff in the small, cedar-sided cabin quickly. We’ve brought all our own groceries for the weekend, though hopefully we’ll be eating fish for dinner for the next couple nights if all goes well.

+++

The sunlight sparkles over the water in the late afternoon. Dad and I sit on a small, green boat with the outboard motor, the little vessel rocking slightly every time we shift or another boat motors past. It’s getting close to time to turn in.

We’ve been talking, and tentatively, I’ve brought up the last year. Dad and I still aren’t so great at the more sensitive subjects, but I know he wants to try, and I want to try. So here we are. Trying. My words are slow and awkward, and dad tries not to interrupt me. Listening—not shouting—has been a major part of what we established in counseling.

“The only reason I didn’t go to juvy is because of who you and mom are, who granddad was, and because of Uncle Luke.” I sigh, thinking of that day in the legal offices where the JAG attorney explained all the paperwork options he was filing.

_“There’s no reason to worry. The other boy’s parents are angry, but we have sufficient material here to demonstrate the severity of Ben’s own injuries, as well as potential culpability on Cal’s part. I think the character reference from Colonel Skywalker will go a long way to keep Ben home with you.”_

_I stare at the table, unable to meet the attorney’s eyes, or those of my parents. They flank me on either side, and I bristle every time my mother tries to touch my hand or my shoulder. Suddenly, she cares about me. Suddenly, my father is interested in me. My hatred sits heavy in my stomach, on top of the shame of not being worthy of their love._

_My nose is still swollen and permanently crooked from Cal’s blows, and it still hurts to breathe. But at least when the bruising on my face subsides, I’ll have two eyes to see out of._

_He’d approached me after I was leaving the post’s boxing gym, coming out of the shadows, calling my name in a scathing voice._

_“Hey, Solo. Come over here, you pussy. I hear you’re too chicken to take the fight Snoke set up. Afraid I’m gonna beat you?”_

_I shook my head at him. More like my parents caught wind of the sparring and were already pissed off about that. They had threatened to take away every privilege I had left, save for breathing, eating, and sleeping. Even those seemed to be up for negotiation these days. They didn’t realize how little I cared for my privileges. Books, TV, computer, any sort of social activity—none of it mattered. None of it._

_But if they’d known then about the underground boxing matches, things would have gone apocalyptic in my household real fast._

_“Fuck off, Cal. It’s none of your business.”_

_I heard his heavy footsteps, and he grabbed the back of my jacket._

_“No way. I was supposed to make $500 in that fight, and because you pussed out, no one gets paid. You either owe me money, or you need to fight. I hear Snoke won’t have anything to do with you now—bad business, he calls it.”_

_I shoved Cal away, glaring at him. “I don’t owe you a fucking thing. And we both know I would have embarrassed you in that fight. You’re pathetic.”_

_Cal was clumsy on his feet—he had more aggression than technique. My power had been honed already—I had technique, and when appropriately riled by Snoke, who always knew what to say to make my rage break loose, my aggression was unholy. Snoke never let us spar against one another, always talking about how unworthy the other was as an opponent--an upstart trying to take precedence in the gym hierarchy. We’d each learned jealousy and hostility that were now the core of our identities as fighters._

_I felt Cal grab my arm and twist it behind my back. That was it._

_I turned, and I began swinging. I didn’t know anything else until the MPs arrived._

Dad busies himself with checking the bait bucket, as if that’s suddenly very critical, a frown on his face before he glances back up at me. I see some emotion that lingers between agreement and defiance.

“That may be true, kid, but I don’t regret it. The worst thing for you would have been to send you away for a year. We were already losing you, and we were terrified that if you were taken from us, we’d never get you back.”

He closes the bait bucket lid and instead reaches for another beer from the cooler at his feet. He considers for a moment, then selects a Gatorade instead, handing me one, too. It is hot, and we’re sweating a lot out here on the lake like this.

“Cal’s never getting the vision back in his eye. Doesn’t seem fair that I walk away unscathed,” I mutter, fiddling with the reel on my fishing pole.

“Unscathed?” Dad’s voice hitches with a dry laugh, his voice gruff. “Ben. Can you really say you got away without consequences? The nightmares? The guilt? You got convicted with petty assault. You did community service and served your probation. And you did all those anger management classes, _and_ the court-mandated counseling with your mom and me. C’mon, kid.”

“He’s _disfigured_.” I set my fishing pole down in the pole-holder on the side of the boat.

“Yeah? And you had a broken nose and broken ribs. I’m not sayin’ you did good. You didn’t. But it’s been a year, and I think it’s time you forgave yourself. You don’t have to feel good about what you did, but you can stop making yourself miserable.”

“But it’s not just that—it’s everything. I just can’t pretend. It’s part of me…”

“Ain’t the only part of you, kid. You’re more than that.”

I sigh, and I look down at my hands. I’ve seen them bruised and bloodied. I’ve used them to punch people, to break windows, to shatter furniture, to knock holes in walls, and to crack bones.

But I also think about Rey, and how I’ve used these hands to gently caress her, to hold her hands in mine, and to make her gasp in pleasure. I can almost feel the delicate softness of her skin when I think about touching her with these hands of mine.

“Sometimes I wonder if Rey knew everything, if she’d be afraid of me.”

Dad looks up in astonishment. “That girl thinks you hung the moon just for her. I think she’d be pretty generous in any judgements.”

“She doesn’t like bullies…”

“And you’re not one.” My dad’s hand lands on my shoulder, and he gives it a squeeze. “C’mon now. I’m proud you’re my son. You— _we_ —had a rough patch. Your mom and I made mistakes, too. We didn’t listen enough.”

I huff slightly, drinking my Gatorade and squinting into the brightness of the late afternoon sun, my ballcap’s visor low over my eyes.

Dad jostles my shoulder a little, and I feel his affection. “Look at us now. Talking. Fishing. We worked hard for this weekend.”

When he grins at me, I smile back, a little wry, but understanding his sentiment. A year ago, I was in court. I wasn’t talking to either of my parents. They were barely talking to each other. My grades were in shambles. And here we are now, with coolers of food and drinks, fishing poles, on a boat on a pretty, idyllic lake in North Carolina, talking to each other without shouting.

Alright. Maybe I can be a little kinder to myself. Just a little.

+++

Dad and I cook our catch on the grill on our cabin’s porch, taking satisfaction in our afternoon’s work. He throws me a can of beer with an admonition to not tell Mom, and I grin. I’ve thrown together a salad, I and follow dad’s advice on sautéing some vegetables in a skillet, maybe over seasoning them a little. Everything tastes great.

As we settle into lawn chairs on the porch after dinner, each grabbing another beer—the last one I’ll have for the night, Dad pointedly tells me—Dad surprises me with a question.

“I noticed you’ve been doing boxing workouts a little more. Is that something you wanna pursue again? I’m not thinkin’ competitive, like, but… if you like it, and we can find a coach who isn’t, well, you know…”

_Who isn’t a psychopath looking to exploit teenagers for money? Who isn’t going to whisper poison in my ear and pitch violence as the only way to empower myself?_

I take a long swig of beer and look sidelong at my father.

“I… I work the bag when I’m stressed out. Helps me sleep better. But yeah, maybe I’d like to take lessons again…”

Dad grunts slightly in thought. “You been that stressed, kid? I thought things were going well for you in Jakku. We’re getting along at home. You’ve got good grades. Decent friends. Pretty girl, not that I can understand how on earth you convinced her to spend time with you...”

I ignore his snark with a sidelong glare.

“The other stuff gets to me. It catches up in my thoughts sometimes. Doesn’t stop until I wear myself out a little,” I admit. My free hand taps on my knee for a moment. “And, um, there’s Rey.”

“You fighting with her?” Dad sounds truly perplexed. “Hasn’t seemed like you two are havin’ trouble since you made up with each other. Looked awfully cuddly last night.”

“We aren’t fighting. I just… I get really worried about her. She works a lot, and she’s always tired. I know she’s taking care of Maz, but I wonder who’s taking care of Rey. It’s… I don’t know. She keeps saying she’s okay and that she doesn’t need anything, and she’s always so bright and funny… But I think maybe things are worse than she lets on?”

Dad hums slightly in thought. “Some kids have more responsibilities than others. It’s not as usual nowadays, but when I was a boy, a lot could be expected— _needed_ —from the kids in a family. It’s not ideal.”

We watch dragonflies zip by, skimming over the lake in flashes of blue and red.

“I’ll admit, your mother and I have had some questions about her. She’s always hungry, and her clothes have seen better days. Then again, teenagers are eating machines...” He gives me a pointed look. I’ve done some damage to the grocery bill in the last few years. I didn’t get to be 6’3” by avoiding food.

“You think she’s in trouble?” His question has a worried note.

“She says she’s not in trouble.”

And yet, I think back to the previous night when I’d taken her home after dinner with my parents. We’d lingered in the Wagoneer, holding hands and kissing, until she’d sighed that she needed to get inside before Maz got upset. Rey had given me one last kiss, a quick peck on the lips, before sliding out of the car with her backpack and the Tupperware container of leftovers my dad had packed for her. I waited for her to unlock her front door and step inside before I started up the engine.

However, as I pulled out of the parking space next to her Ford Escort, I had the strangest feeling of loneliness. I looked in my rearview mirror to see a single window brighten through the shade as she turned on a light in what must be her bedroom. But I just shook the thought out of my head before driving myself home.

“Well, there are some standard signs when a kid is struggling. They go over this with us in the Army—you know we’re all supposed to report on family stuff for our soldiers. When we see a kid who might be having problems, we’re supposed to ask--Is the kid clean? Having behavioral issues? Doing okay in school? Scared of going home?”

I consider my dad’s matter-of-factly stated list of warning signs. Rey’s always tidy, even if her clothes aren’t new or particularly fashionable. She doesn’t get in trouble, and her grades are good. She isn’t afraid to go home. Frankly, I exhibited more warning signs for a troubled home life back in Chandrila.

“Mmm. Well, she’s fine, based on that. I guess… I don’t know. I guess I’m used to how things are for me—kind of easy in comparison. I’ve never known anyone like her before. I just feel like she’s hiding something.”

My dad sips the last of his beer and stares out across the lake, looking contemplative. The air smells watery and fresh.

“Could be she feels a little awkward about not having much. You know I grew up poor. Bounced around from one aunt and uncle to another until I finished high school and joined the Army. I spent a lot of time pretending to be like the other kids. Said a lot of stuff to fit in—making excuses about my clothes and my food and my living situation.”

“Yeah.” I sigh, finishing my last sip of beer as well and standing up. “Maybe I’m just feeling guilty. She shouldn’t feel like she needs to make excuses.”

“Life ain’t fair, Benny. Rey’s a good kid—just keep being there for her. I think that’s what she needs most.”

Dad and I throw our beer cans in the garbage and turn in for the night.

+++

I wake up early and go for a long run on the trail that leads through the woods surrounding the lake. Dad takes a shorter run than I do—30 years in the Army had taken its toll on his knees—and he’s already pouring pancake batter on the griddle by the time I get back to the cabin, sweaty and exhausted.

“Hurry up kid. Fish are jumping already. And if we can get out of the boat early enough, we can go for a hike or something.”

We pass a quiet morning on the boat. The water glitters brilliantly in the sunlight, and the air is fresh and piney. Dad reels in a couple of decent-sized trout, and I pull in a bass. The other fish we throw back.

“Dying from internet withdrawal yet?” Dad asks with a smirk as he unwraps a sandwich from the cooler and hands it to me.

I grunt and roll my eyes at him. “I’m fine. I know old people don’t understand the allure.”

“Can’t say I do. But I guess I’ll figure it out when you go to college next year. Send you e-mails and stuff to keep in touch.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him and take a bite of my sandwich. The thought of my dad navigating the internet and sending me every ridiculous email forward the web has to offer feels like imminent disaster.

“I can’t wait,” I say, trying to withhold a snort and failing. “Do you want me to show you how it all works?”

“Wouldn’t mind a lesson or two. Your mother and I were thinking of getting you a cell phone, too.”

“What for?” I ask, suspicious.

Dad looks baffled. “To talk to us! You could talk to other people, too. Just… you’re driving now. You can make calls if you need anything. And we can always reach you. I thought all the kids wanted one now.”

I look sidelong at Dad, finishing off the sandwich and brushing the crumbs from my hands. “You can’t put a tracking device on me, so a cell phone will do?”

Dad makes an exasperated noise.

“Truth is, kid, you’re seventeen. In a year, you’ll be out the door, and then who knows what hours or company you’ll keep. Your mother and I can try to fight it, and frustrate you, or we can trust you. Hell, you’ve got your driver’s license now, and you can already go where you like. The cell phone just makes us breathe a little easier. Feels safer.”

“Okay, then. But you’ll practice self-control? You won’t call me every five minutes?”

“These are promises you’ll have to get from your mother. She’s beside herself at the thought of you being out of the house.”

Dad digs through the cooler and hands me a Coke. He decides to have one as well after a lengthy deliberation.

“She hasn’t said anything like that to me…”

Dad snorts. “She’s trying to be tough about it, but it’s not going so well. It’s not a lack of trust, for the record. We know you’re doing alright. We just kind of like having you around. Turns out, you’re not so bad, even if you do leave your socks in the living room. And eat all our food. And smell terrible some of the time.”

Dad gives me a sardonic grin, and I roll my eyes at him. “I feel so loved. Thank you.”

“I’m glad we’re able to talk out here,” Dad says after a long moment.

I look at dad and nod in agreement, leaning back in the boat and enjoying the gentle sway and watching the other boats go by. “I am, too. I guess Mom’s insistence that we pick up the old tradition was a good idea.”

We sit in amicable silence until my dad clears his throat and suddenly looks awkward. I groan, knowing that short of jumping out of the boat and swimming to shore, I am captive to whatever is coming next. “Your mom did give me, uh, an agenda item to cover with you. Seems like things with Rey are progressing in a certain, uh… direction.”

I groan, covering my face with my hands. “I know where babies come from, Dad.”

“Well, that’s good. Otherwise, I’d be real confused after all that MTV you watch. If you don’t know after seeing some of those videos, well…”

I can’t possibly roll my eyes any harder than I am. It’s almost painful how hard I’m rolling them. But, before I can get a sarcastic word in, Dad continues, ignoring the fact that I’m clearly not excited to talk about this… stuff.

“Anyway, that’s not what we need to talk about. It’s the other stuff. Relationship stuff.”

I look at him, contemplating whether it would be better to shove him out of the boat or for me to jump overboard, and he groans, rubbing his hand over his face, scratching lightly at his scruffy stubble.

“I remember your mother telling me you couldn’t look her in the eye for a week after she tried to have _the talk_ with you while I was deployed.”

Dad snorts, and I feel my will to live shrivel inside of me.

“So what are you trying to add to my perspective now?” I ask sarcastically. “Mom traumatized me pretty well already.”

Yes, she had. I’d had to bolt from the room after enduring a lecture on why certain rumored methods just weren’t great—pulling out, rhythm, and… ugh, I thought I’d scrubbed that from my brain forever. I never want to think about my mother saying the words “erection” or “semen” or “lubrication” ever again. Ever. No wonder I’m still a virgin. Getting the sex talk from Leia Organa-Solo is the biggest boner killer known to man.

“Just wanted to remind you it’s a big decision. And when it’s done, it’s done. It’s not something you can take back. You need to be able to tell hormones apart from real feelings.”

His words rankle, and I feel a surge of frustration bubble up inside me, threatening to rile my temper. I huff and sit up, my eyes trained on his face, and I hope my voice doesn’t sound as hostile as I feel. “I’m tired of people saying everything a teenager feels is because of hormones. My feelings are _real_ , and so are hers.”

I can see my dad is taken slightly aback by my intensity.

“Then you need to understand how those feelings might be more intense when the relationship becomes physical. Assuming you haven’t…?”

I look down at my feet, picking up and crumpling the empty Coke can in my fist. “We haven’t.”

I’m about ready to dive over the side of the boat. I bet the lake water is nice and cool. It might save me from combustive, agonizing embarrassment.

“Well, just remember—Rey’s feelings matter as much as yours. You’ll need to talk and _listen._ You’ll need to be honest and communicate.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be telling me to wait until marriage, or something? Or to go bowling?”

My dad’s face screws up in confusion. “Bowling?”

“My dumbass Spanish teacher is always yelling in class that we don’t need to have sex, we should go bowling instead.”

Dad snorts. “Good to know you’re getting a complete education.”

He clears his throat. “Uh, anyway, kid, if things, uh, progress, just know it’s a big responsibility. And I’m not telling you what to do here, Ben. I’d be a hypocrite if I told you to wait. Just remember this—I’m not ready to be a grandpa. You gotta give me at least another ten years before I get that title, okay?”

“Yes, condoms, Dad. I get it.”

“Alright then. Let’s head back.”

+++

We arrive home on Fort Windu late on Sunday afternoon, sweaty, a little sunburned, but in good spirits. Dad and I stopped for burgers and shakes at Cook Out along the way, and I’ve almost forgiven him for trapping me on a boat to talk about sex.

Mom greets us in the foyer of the house sporting a new haircut and wrinkling her nose at how we smell. She informs us the coolers have to stay outside and get bleached—she doesn’t know which ones held raw fish, and she doesn’t trust our memory.

“How was your girls’ day with Rey?” I ask, dragging my bag toward the laundry room.

“We had a lovely time. She’s really something, Ben.” Mom smiles at me warmly, and I can tell she’s pleased with whatever occurred.

I hope Rey’s feeling the same way, because I know all-too-well what it’s like when the Colonel’s attention gets laser-focused. It’s either the best feeling in the world, or the most excruciating. Knowing my mom, Rey probably got to feel a little of both. I need to call her and see if she’s still talking to me after spending a day with my mother.

I see my mom catch Dad’s eye, and she quirks an eyebrow at him. “Han, when you get this gear put up, can you come upstairs? Something to discuss…”

Huh. I have a funny feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long and talky chapter. Han and Ben needed to say some things. So my apology for a lack of action… but, ya know. Character development. 
> 
> Yes, I really did have a Spanish teacher who told us to go bowling instead of having sex. Or drinking. Or going to parties. GO BOWLING. 
> 
> Cook Out is a fast-food chain with amazing shakes. It also has these configurable meal deals where it is technically possible to order two hotdogs with a side of two corndogs for $4. I never did it, but I was always amused that the choice was there.
> 
> Things that confuse Han: The internet, MTV… the list is growing.
> 
> And yes--when Han's deployed constantly, it was left to Leia to tell Ben about the birds and the bees. Can you IMAGINE the horror? She's not exactly one to mince words, so I have an idea things were VERY frank and graphic. She wasn't going to let her son be educated by "locker room talk." HELL NO.


	24. watch for falling rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey's POV. Girls' day with Leia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most important thing to remember when you tell a lie is to stick as close to the truth as possible. It makes it that much more convincing when you can look someone in the eye and paint a false picture of the world as it exists.

I remind myself of that at least a dozen times before I hear tires crunch over the gravel, and I peek out the living room window to see Mrs. Solo’s—Leia’s—new sedan pull into the parking spot next to my little Ford Escort. I look in the mirror by the front door, taking a deep breath, and I nervously tug on the hem of the blue cotton top I’ve borrowed from Paige. It has a square neckline and short sleeves, and the color is bright and pretty. And most importantly, it looks fresh and new.

Before Leia has a chance to come to the front door, I grab my little canvas day bag and head outside, waving to her brightly, realizing that I was smart to hustle. She’s already halfway to the front door, making a gambit to look at Maz and my living conditions.

I can see her eyes taking in the neighbors’ burnt out trailer next to mine with some horror, but frankly, that only makes my place look better in comparison. It’s not a charred husk—it’s a tidy, neatly kept place with no broken windows or broken blinds, no trash piled around it, and no graffiti. I keep the little yard around it simple, with the grass always cut short.

Maz always said that one should be proud of their home, even if they didn’t have much money. She left me this place, and it’s as nice as I can make it.

“Oh hey! I heard the car pull up.” I smile at Leia warmly—and I am glad to see her, as utterly terrified as I am. She’s been endlessly kind to me, and she is Ben’s mother.

“Maz just laid down for her afternoon nap,” I inform her with a cheery tone, turning to lock the trailer’s front door behind me before bounding down the steps in her direction.

Leia looks lovely for her day out with me—her dark hair is pulled back in a stylishly messy braid that hangs over her shoulder, and she’s wearing dark capri pants and a tropical-printed sleeveless cotton top. The whole effect is very 60s, but it works on her.

Leia holds out her arms and pulls me in for a quick hug, and I give her a squeeze in return. “That’s a pretty shirt, Rey,” she says affectionately, guiding me to her car.

As we leave Jakku Acres, Leia smiles at me fondly as she pitches the agenda. “What do you think about lunch first, then we can go to the salon?”

“Okay! I could eat.”

+++

When we sit down to lunch at a Mexican restaurant, decorated with pretty terracotta tiles and interesting plants, I can’t help but look around curiously. I’ve been to diners and fast-food places, but I can’t remember ever going to a real restaurant before, some place that didn’t just serve eggs in the morning and burgers the rest of the day.

After we order, however, Leia is all-too-casually sipping water from her glass eyeing me. I can tell she is taking my measure. The longer she observes me, the more nervous I feel, and I wonder if this is what she does to the soldiers under her command to make sure they know who’s in charge. Her eyes may be filled with warmth, but they’re also wickedly intelligent.

I think she’d hoped to catch me off-guard, but I’ve been hiding in plain sight for so long that wariness is my default.

“It’s just you and Maz at home?”

“Mmhmm. Just us. Aunt Maz’s husband died before I was born.”

Leia cups her chin in her hand. I can tell she wants more details. These are safe enough to give, so I smile briefly at her.

“Maz is my grandmother’s older sister--she died before I was born. After my dad died, Maz took us in. And, after my mother died in a car accident, that just left Maz and me. There’s no other family.”

What I don’t say is that my mother abandoned me. She’d been working at some diner in town, and she left one morning and never came back. When she died in a car accident a couple years later, her roommate sent us her things.

Everything I know about my mother is in a crumbling cardboard box in the back of my closet. Some costume jewelry. Some rumpled clothes. A handful of photographs of her with people I don’t know, and one of her holding me as an infant. She’s young and dark haired and smiling, and I’m plumply content. On the back it says, in what I think sometimes think might be my father’s handwriting, _Sharon and Rey – 1982_. She would have only been sixteen then, herself. I think I can forgive her abandoning me, sometimes—a young mother with a dead husband and no prospects in Jakku—no wonder she ran.

Leia sits back a second before fidgeting with the basket of chips and rearranging the little bowls of salsa the waiter had brought out. “And you get along well with Maz?”

I almost laugh at that point. I miss Maz so terribly. She was my mother and my confidante and my cheerleader. I try to compose my face, not wanting to show any cracks of sorrow or wistfulness when I talk of her.

“Maz is my mother. She never had children, but she always said--says--I’m the daughter she wanted. She’s… Maz is the kindest, wisest person I know. Her health isn’t great, so I do more to help her now, but we’re okay. Really.”

I bite my lip and look up at Leia, who seems to be doing some quick analysis in her head as she studies my face.

I practically heave a sigh of relief when we are mercifully interrupted by the waiter with our food. A plate full of carne asada tacos for me, and some seriously gooey and cheesy chicken enchiladas for Leia. It smells better than anything I’ve ever been served in my whole life, I think, and my stomach is also growling. I hope the food distracts Leia from asking too many personal questions.

Leia contemplates her food with the satisfaction of a woman who knows what’s about to be consumed is delicious, and she picks up her fork and knife.

“Do you mind if I ask a personal question, Rey?”

 _Shit_.

I nod, wondering how I can go from starving to nauseous so quickly.

“Do you and Maz have the support you need? You’re not in over your head taking care of her?”

Her voice is so tender and concerned that I see a flash of Ben’s earnest, handsome face. He’s tried asking in myriad ways, and I always see the fear in his eyes that I’m hurting somehow. I realize now that he gets it from his mother, this need to help others.

My heart is thundering in my ears, and I try to focus, try to take a normal breath, try to make confident eye contact with my boyfriend’s terribly astute mother. I casually pick up a taco and reply before taking a bite as if nothing in the world could be the matter and how silly for her to ask.

“No, ma’am—Leia. I mean, it’s not easy, but… she has a good doctor. And her friend Linda comes by to check on us. And, um, money’s tight, but we have everything we need.”

Leia hums a moment. I don’t think she’s buying everything I say, but at least she’s not questioning Maz’s existence.

“One last question, and I’ll leave you to your tacos.”

She smiles slightly, and she slides her hand across the table to grab mine in a firm squeeze. It’s as if she’s trying to convey support? Strength?

“Are you happy?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Of course!” I’ve been pretty happy since I met Ben, anyway, so it’s easy enough to smile at her reassuringly.

And at least for now, Leia seems pleased to let me eat my tacos.

+++

“So what’s it going to be for you, Rey? Pedicure? Manicure? Haircut?”

We’re walking toward the salon, and I look down at my hands studying the tiny cuts, scrapes and scars on my fingers and the uneven fingernails.

“I think a manicure is a waste on me, but maybe a pedicure? I’ve never had one. They sound nice.”

Some of the novels I’ve read have characters who get their hair and nails done weekly. This is an experience as far beyond my comprehension as colonizing Mars.

Leia nods. “Pedicures are a must. I’m scheduled for a haircut today, too. We can have them cut your hair, too, if you like. Up to you, Rey. It’s a day of pampering.”

I feel hesitant, unused to this kind of attention. Maz and I used to paint each other’s nails, and sometimes she’d buy a mud mask from the pharmacy and we’d spend a Friday night in front of the TV with a bowl of popcorn, faces smeared with our “beauty treatment.”

“I usually cut my hair myself.”

Once upon a time, Maz would sit me on a stool in the kitchen, and she would neatly trim my hair for me with her best pair of scissors, making sure the length was even.

From the expression on Leia’s face, this is exactly what she had expected. I wonder if my hair looks that butchered to experienced eyes like hers. Probably. I try not to squirm from embarrassment.

“Rey?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not being executed. Breathe,” she commands, and I automatically take a huge breath and then let it out, blindly following her orders so I can get a damn grip. She laughs and reaches to give my shoulder a playful shake.

“Alright. You’re going to have a haircut. And a pedicure. And then, afterwards, maybe ice cream? Is that a plan, young lady?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say with brisk politeness, and I salute her jokingly, finding my humor. Finally. “Roger, roger.”

“Is Ben teaching you that nonsense?” she asks, her warm, brown eyes, so similar to his, glinting with mirth.

“Yes! He says it drives you and Han crazy.”

“Oh, it most certainly does.”

When we settle into the big spa chairs for our pedicures, our feet soaking in the hot water, I look around the salon curiously. It’s vast and bright and it smells like chemicals—there’s even a chandelier hanging in the middle of the place, which, frankly, seems a little bizarre for any business in Jakku, NC, but there it is. A whole chandelier. I’ve picked out a pale pink color, while Leia has gone for a bold, glittery orange color.

“The US Army doesn’t care if my toes sparkle,” she tells me with a laugh. “Even for an old battle-hardened warrior like myself, it’s nice to feel pretty.”

“When Ben told me you were an Army colonel, I thought you’d be an amazon, or have a buzz cut or… I don’t know. Ben’s so tall, I figured you’d be big, too,” I tell her with a laugh.

Leia shakes her head, and she leans comfortably into her spa chair as the nail technicians begin working on our feet.

“Not every role is a combat role, so my size hasn’t been an issue in the Army. It only ever was when I was giving birth to Ben, but you do NOT want to hear that story, young lady. Not until you’re old enough to drink, I assure you.”

I’m certain my eyes just about bulge out of my head at the unspoken horror, and she laughs wickedly.

When I ask Leia, she tells me she ended up joining the Army after earning a business degree in college. Because corporate hiring practices didn’t exactly favor women in the 70s, she decided to follow family tradition and go to the _even less_ woman-friendly Officer Candidate School to become an Army officer like her father and brother, out of sheer perversity. Based on what I know of her, and her son, and her husband, that all tracks. These Solos are _a lot_.

I vaguely wonder if Ben intends to follow their path; he’s never said anything about it.

Our conversation meanders. She asks me about school and how I know Rose and Finn and other things we’ve discussed briefly during dinners at the Solo house, but I can feel her questions winding tighter around me, and when I mention Ben’s SAT class, she interrupts with a question.

“Are you planning on college, Rey? I know you’re a year younger than Ben, but it’s a good time for you to start thinking ahead.”

She peers at me with such intense curiosity, that I’m flummoxed for a second, before I remind myself that this is at least one space where I can be honest. I sip from the water bottle the salon staff brought to me before replying. No one ever really asks me about what happens after high school. I’ve never sat down with the school guidance counselor. I haven’t had the luxury to think that far ahead.

“Oh, um, not really?” My voice is faint, because I know this is not an answer that adults like to hear, particularly well-educated ones with decent professions. “My grades aren’t good enough for a scholarship. But I might go to Jakku Tech and get a certificate in electrical repair or something.”

I drift off from speaking, seeing her face dim slightly. I’m surprised by how much it hurts to see her expression fall like this. I wonder if she thinks that I’ll be a drag on Ben’s ambitions. I try to deflect the conversation. Mothers want to talk about their sons, I should think.

“I’m really glad Ben is planning to go to a big school—he says he might major in computer stuff?”

“He might. You know, I’ve rarely seen anyone with your work ethic or your smarts—have you considered getting your associate’s degree, then transferring to a bigger school later?”

She must see how baffled I look because she tries a different tactic with me.

“What does your Aunt Maz say?”

Christ. Maz and I barely had a chance to discuss things like that. All our conversations, especially toward the end were about basic survival. Food. Electricity. Rent. I know she thought I was smart, but she didn’t get to live long enough to help me figure out my future.

“Maz says people who know a trade can earn enough to take care of themselves. She’s… well, she really wants me to be able to take care of myself. She worries about that… my mom didn’t finish high school, and Maz wants me to have a good life.”

Leia looks pensive for a fleeting second, and I feel like I’m ruining everything about as well as I can. She’s not going to want Ben around me. He’s on a different track, and I’m a townie who is clearly never getting out of this place. I feel a rise of panic in my heart, burning away the slight confidence I’d had.

“These are very practical plans, Rey,” she says with a slight smile. After a scant second, I see something solidifying in her eyes that is accepting. Supportive. Maybe she’s understanding my position a little better, I hope.

“Ben says you have a knack for fixing things. I think you’ll do well no matter what path you take.”

“You think so?”

“I do think you should keep your options open. Take the PSAT this fall, and the SAT in the spring. It’ll be nice for you to have those test scores at the ready, in case you need them.”

I shrug noncommittally.

+++

I can’t believe how lovely I feel as we leave the salon. My feet have never been so soft, and my toenails are perfectly painted, and the salon’s skilled stylist tidied up my hair, layering it until it falls in soft waves around my face. It still brushes over my shoulders, and the cut is simple enough where I won’t have to waste time putting in products and trying to style it.

I’d wheezed with laughter when the stylist asked me what I usually did to my hair each day. Apparently, “I brush it!” was not the answer she had expected. Leia had barely kept a straight face, herself.

“Do you think Ben will like it?” I ask Leia as we walk to her car. Her hair has been cut and styled into sleek waves that stop just below her chin.

“I do, but the important thing is whether you like it, Rey. It’s your hair, so it’s your opinion that matters,” she tells me with a smile.

“Still have room for ice cream?” she asks.

I could play coy, but Leia knows I’m a bottomless pit when it comes to food. She’d watched me plow through my plate of tacos like a demon and shamelessly consume two baskets of chips and salsa.

“There’s always room for ice cream,” I declare pertly, and she laughs.

+++

Leia takes us through the ice cream stand’s drive thru, and after she passes me my double-scoop of butter pecan ice cream on a waffle cone, along with her double-scoop of mint chocolate chip, she parks her car in the shadiest part of the parking lot. I pass back her cone, and we roll down the windows.

The ice cream is sweet and rich, and we sit in amicable silence for a minute or two before I hear her take a deep breath and turn to me. I know that sound. She’s already turned it on me countless times today. Oh. My. God. The woman is relentless.

“What now!?” I blurt, my voice squeaking in stress, and Leia bursts out laughing in huge guffaws. I am finally understanding every complaint Ben has ever had about her.

“Rey… oh you poor thing, I’m sorry,” she says, snorting and wiping at her eyes with her free hand. Her shoulders are shaking. “I’ve been grilling you all afternoon, haven’t I?”

I give her a mutinous look and lick my ice cream. I feel, on some level, that she’s just been buttering me up all day so she can get me to this point.

“Well? What do you want to know?” I’m exasperated, but when I look at the passenger side door handle, mildly contemplating getting out of the card and running away, Leia hits the auto-locks. I glance back at her with some dismay, and she just grins with devilish joy. She’s clearly having fun.

“Alright, I’m not sorry. I wanted to get to know you a little better, and, well, I’m intense. You’ve met Ben, right? You can see that it runs in the family. So here it is--you spend a lot of time with my son, so as far as I’m concerned, I have not one, but _two_ teenagers to worry about now.”

She reaches to squeeze my arm in a motherly fashion, looking me in the eye as if to seek my understanding. I dip my head a bit to acknowledge her words. I can’t help but feel a warmth bloom in my heart for her kindness, even as dangerous as her notice is.

“Alright,” I say softly, a tentative need to please her bubbling into my tone. “And… I really like getting to know you. I just don’t want to say anything wrong, because… well, I’m scared you’ll think maybe Ben shouldn’t be around me.”

“What? Oh, no, Rey—you haven’t said anything wrong. Not one thing. I’m glad for you to know my son. I think you’re good for him. He certainly smiles a lot more these days. And his grades have gotten better.”

I peer at her anxiously, wondering if she means it. I’m not on track for college. My family is non-existent. And yes, I’m hungry. But from the compassionate look on her face, I can see she’s not joking. I can’t even fathom why.

“What were you going to ask me this time?” I finally say, my voice small, hesitant.

Leia catches a few drips from her waffle cone, efficiently preventing the melting ice cream from touching her fingers.

“Well… I was thinking about you and Maz, and I know she’s an elderly woman. Are you able to have frank conversations with her? About the birds and the bees?”

I feel my soul leave my body at this very moment. There isn’t enough butter pecan ice cream in the world to make this okay.

I stammer a reply, seeing the determination in Leia’s face. I’m positive my answer would be the same, even if Maz were alive.

“And, um, no… Maz doesn’t want to talk about things like that. She’s… she was born in 1914, Leia. She still thought women still wore sanitary belts with their menstrual pads when I got my first period.”

I see in Leia’s face the struggle not to laugh, but she fails to hold it in.

“Okay. That’s what I thought. Jesus, wait, she’s 84 years old?” Her expression is bewildered, but she shakes her head and moves on.

“Alright, this is going to be awkward because I’m your boyfriend’s mother. I want you to know that there is no judgement here—do you understand?”

I vaguely wonder how I’m still not dead from embarrassment, but sure. I incline my head slightly to show I’m following.

“Right. So. Are you and Ben… sexually active?”

All I can hear is the blood screaming into my face as I redden into a little tomato. “N-no. Ben and I haven’t…”

“Well, Han and I couldn’t help but notice you two are very affectionate with each other, so can I presume you and Ben intend to have sex? –no, stop, do NOT unlock this door and walk out on me, young lady!”

Leia’s hand is on my elbow like a shot, and she tugs me back into my seat before I even have the car door open. Now she’s looking frustrated, and I’m pinned under her gaze. I hope wherever Ben is, he’s suffering as much as I am.

I huff angrily, looking at my feet. “We’ve talked about it, I guess,” I admit, mumbling.

Her tone is gentler this time when she speaks. “I know this is deeply personal, Rey. You’re young, but I know you’re mature for your age. I’m not here to tell you what to do. What I want is to help you make safe choices. Healthy choices.”

I crunch the last bit of waffle cone into my mouth, savoring its sweetness before responding. Ben is never, ever going to hear the end of this when he comes back from his fishing trip.

“Um, well, Ben and I were planning to use condoms?” As soon as I blurt out these words, I freeze, utterly mortified.

Leia starts coughing, red-faced, as if she’s choking on her last bit of ice cream cone as well, and I realize she’s thinking of her son needing condoms and is freaking out. I feel a little better about that, so I pat her on the back and sweetly ask if she’s alright. The annoyed glance she gives me is worth it.

“I meant in general, yes, but that’s part of it. I wanted to make sure you know that you should never do anything you don’t want to do. And that even if you do have sex, it doesn’t mean you always have to say yes. You know this, right? You don’t owe anyone anything, Rey.”

Her tone is caring, and she tucks my hair behind my ear. “You’re in charge of your body.”

“Ben said that to me, too,” I tell her. Leia gives me a broad smile, and I think she’s more than a little proud that Ben’s following her guidance in something so important. It warms me to know that he listens to his mother about things like this.

“Do you have any questions? Are there things you want to know that they don’t cover in health class? Or romance novels? Or Teen magazine?” I know she’s trying to make me smile with her teasing tone, but I also see how she’s trying to hold my gaze, letting me know she’s serious about fielding my questions.

I feel my mouth open, then close, and I shift nervously in my seat. I realize suddenly that I do have a question--a huge one--but I think if anyone might help me, it’ll be Ben’s mom. She cared enough to spend the day with me, gently bullying me into telling her about myself, after all. Leia looks at me expectantly as she watches indecision flicker across my face.

“So, uh, birth control?” My voice squeaks the last two words.

Leia’s eyebrows raise at least an inch, but I carry on before I lose my nerve.

“My mom was 16 when she had me. I, uh, I don’t want to do that. Do you know how I could get pills or the shot or…?”

Leia doesn’t hesitate, even if I basically did just state my intent to have sex with her son. She grabs my hand and squeezes it, her face intent, but affectionate.

“Would you like me to take you to see a doctor? You can get all sorted out with whatever you need.”

I blush slightly, but I nod my head in agreement, and I realize that Ben’s mother might be a whirlwind, a tornado, but that her intensity comes from love.

“Thank you, Leia.”

When we part ways that afternoon, I give her a tight hug, tears pricking at my eyes. It feels good to be mothered, even just this little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW! Leia is exhausting, y’all. I know it’s long and talky, but I had a hell of a good time writing about Leia making Rey squirm.
> 
> Han and Leia understand that telling teenagers not to have sex is a fool’s errand. They’re realists, and furthermore, neither is a hypocrite. I hope you enjoyed Leia and Rey’s safe/consensual sex conversation. No means no, and yes means yes, and yes today does NOT mean yes tomorrow! And for the record, Leia is breaking NO LAWS by taking Rey to see a doctor. It is 100% legal for underage teenagers to see a doctor of their own volition and request birth control.
> 
> And for those not aware, prior to the 1970s, menstrual pads were often paired with a contraption called a sanitary belt. Enjoy: https://owlcation.com/humanities/Overview-of-menstrual-pads. Now imagine young Rey’s horror when trying to navigate women’s health with the good-hearted but somewhat out of touch 80+ year old Maz.


	25. signal ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Ben & Rey reunited, frustrations and revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is not a good day at the SAT class. The practice test for the math component doesn’t go well, and I can’t even begin to explain why. Rose and Finn seemed non-plussed, Poe shrugged at his score, and I stared in disbelief at the red-inked paper in my hands. Math has never been hard for me. Never. I got an A in Calculus this year, and I’m on to Calculus II in the fall.

The commissary isn’t much better. It’s a ghost town all afternoon, and I barely make any tip money. Each Army wife seems stingier than the last, and when the sky opens up, I’m stuck collecting rogue shopping carts in the rain. I try to think of better things—in particular, Rey’s cheerful voice over the phone last night, asking if we could have a home date.

_“I want to snuggle with you in front of the TV. If that’s okay.”_

Her voice was so unexpectedly shy, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. She’s not good at asking for things. She’s so determined to be self-reliant; she would never ask for anything she didn’t need. 

If she just wants cuddles, that’s more than okay. After my dad’s talk about hormones, I know he’ll be surprised to see us happy to enjoy a quiet evening under parental supervision. Admittedly, my dad’s talk has cooled my jets a little. I still want her as badly as ever, but I’m also determined not to make a disaster of it. I’m going to _listen_. And _communicate_. Even if I die of the world’s worst case of blue balls.

When I pick up Rey from her trailer, I’m still dripping wet from being caught in the rain. My hair is plastered to my head, and my stupid ears are sticking out of my head like hateful satellite dishes. Seeing her heartens me a bit, especially when she brushes a light kiss across my lips after climbing into the passenger seat of the Wagoneer, dragging along her dingy green backpack.

She looks fresh and happy, dressed in a faded blue tee shirt and jean shorts, and she doesn’t seem as exhausted as usual after a workday at Plutt’s. The rain brought the temperature down about fifteen degrees, so that had to have helped her. Sometimes when I pick her up, her face is still splotchy from being in the heat.

“You came straight from the commissary!” she observes, tugging on my lanyard with my bag boy ID card before tucking a stand of my wet hair behind an ear affectionately.

“Couldn’t wait. Just wanted you at home.” It does sound nice, getting her next to me on the couch, soft and cozy under a blanket.

Rey flushes prettily, and I can tell she’s pleased from the little glance she gives me as her dimples appear with her smile.

+++

When I come back downstairs after showering and changing into dry clothes, Rey’s in the kitchen with my dad, and he’s leaning over her showing her how to properly julienne vegetables with a sharp knife. After a moment, he’s satisfied with her progress, and he pats her shoulder, moving back to the chicken he’s seasoning in the big roasting pan.

She brightens when she sees me. “Look! Your dad’s teaching me his chef skills.” She motions proudly to her handiwork.

I laugh and pluck a stray slice of carrot from her pile of chopped veggies, popping it into my mouth. “Yes, his retirement spent watching the Food Network is starting to pay off.”

Dad’s head swivels around. “Hey now! I used to watch Julia Child religiously. When you were a baby, your mother would get stuck on staff duty, and I’d sit in the old recliner with you in my arms, and we’d watch Julia make beef bourguignon until you fell asleep.”

“So you flew helicopters but dreamed of culinary success?” Rey teases him.

“Eat enough MREs kid, and you start thinking about food in a whole new way.”

At that point, Mom shuffles into the kitchen, wearing an old brigade tee and baggy gym shorts. She looks tired after her long day, but she squeezes my arm in greeting and rounds the kitchen island to give Rey a quick hug and then move onward to kiss my dad. “Well that’s the truth. I had to eat my share of those during Desert Storm. Chicken ala king out of a brown plastic bag is no one’s friend.”

“You were in the Gulf War?” Rey’s face lights up with curiosity. She’s lived around Army people her whole life—rather, their kids. I wonder if this makes her think of what could have been with her father, had he lived. If he’d have been deployed in that war. If she’d be living on Fort Windu or some other Army post.

Mom nods, leaning back against the kitchen counter, watching as my dad slides the chicken into the oven.

“Mmmhmm. Han and I both deployed.”

I stiffen at the memory, thinking of how I’d cried as they left me behind with a folder of family photos and their overseas mailing addresses clearly written on laminated paper. They’d promised to come get me as soon as they could. Whenever that would be.

Rey’s eyes move between my parents and me. She understands. I know she does—she’s reading my loneliness as if it were a language she knows fluently. If they were gone, where did that leave me? Her eyes hold steady on mine, inquisitive and compassionate. I answer her unasked question.

“And I lived with my Uncle Luke until the war was over. He’s an Army chaplain. He was on a training assignment at Fort Tano in South Carolina, so he didn’t deploy for the war.”

My parents are both quiet at this point. This is the point where our life as a family began to unravel. Luke’s a good man, but he is unused to children.

_“Can you settle down now, Ben? I’ve got soldiers waiting,” Luke scolds gently. I’ve been following him around his apartment with my homework, trying to read my answers out loud to him, asking if he thinks they’re correct. Mom always checks my homework. Dad looks over it, too._

_“But Mrs. Ventress says this is due tomorrow…”_

_“Then finish it! I’m sure it’ll be fine. You’re a smart boy.” Luke pats my head absently. “You got your backpack? You can finish up your homework in my office while I’m in the chapel. We can get dinner after.”_

It was a whole year like that. Sporadic phone calls and letters from my parents when they were able, and long nights alone in Luke’s office while he led chapel services and ministered to the soldiers. And when my parents could finally come get me, they’d hugged me fiercely and told me how good I was. How Luke said I’d been no trouble at all.

“It was a hard year,” my dad supplies without looking up from the pot of wild rice he’s now stirring on the stove top. “It was bad luck we both got deployed at the same time. After that, we managed to make sure at least one of us was home while the other deployed. Still too much, though. Missed out on a lot.”

That puts a faint gloss on the reality. Busy parents. Lonely me.

Mom gives us a wry smile. “That’s Army life. Maybe you’ve heard the old joke--if the Army wanted you to have a wife or a family, they’d have issued you one.”

I shouldn’t be as angry as I am, but their words so inadequately describe what I felt. What they felt. I know they don’t want to get into details with Rey here, but the memory of those feelings is bleeding out and forming a lump in my stomach. I can’t think of anything to say to Mom or Dad, and I make a silent plea to Rey to finish up and come sit with me in front of the TV like we’d planned.

Her hazel eyes hold mine for a long second, understanding, and she quietly turns over the julienned vegetables to my dad.

Mom gives me a little smile as she watches me shift on my feet waiting for Rey. “Mind if I borrow Rey for a moment, Ben?”

I do mind, but I shrug. “I’ll be in the living room.”

+++

I’m aimlessly flipping through channels, sprawled in the big recliner, trying not to feel pissy, trying to push back the ache in my gut. Save for Rey, the day hasn’t been what I’d hoped. She slips into the living room quietly and joins me in the recliner, snuggling into my side. She presses a little kiss to my cheek, and she fondly toys with a lock of my hair.

“What’s the matter, Ben?”

I huff slightly and cuddle her close, frowning against the curve of her neck. “Nothing.”

“Ben,” she says chidingly. “You were frowning when you picked me up, and I saw a gloomy thundercloud form right over your head in the kitchen just a few minutes ago.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” I mutter darkly.

Rey stiffens in my arms, and when I let myself look at her face, I see she’s hurt by my tone. When her eyes flicker to mine, I see an apology there. “How do you feel?” she asks softly.

“Frustrated. Angry. I don’t like it when my parents act like the deployments weren’t so bad. But you’re here, and that’s good.” I brush my lips across her cheek in a light caress. “What did my mom want with you?”

“Oh, uh. Your mom had some girl stuff to discuss with me,” she says haltingly. I know Rey, and I definitely know my mother’s habits, so there’s more to it than she’s letting on. They weren’t talking about haircuts the whole time. “We had a really long talk on Saturday, and she wanted to follow up...”

“Let me guess. My mother used the girls’ day as an excuse to demand you give her every detail of your life story?”

Rey exhales a laugh. “It was like getting interrogated in a CIA black site. She’s _relentless_.”

That’s a good word for it. Dad’s always compared Mom to a bulldozer. A very loving bulldozer.

Unfortunately, now my agitation is increasing, rippling under my skin. I grumble as I frown against the side of Rey’s head, stroking her arm with my fingertips. I absently wonder how her skin can be this _soft_. “She shouldn’t do that to you. It’s bad enough when I get caught in her crosshairs.”

Rey exhales a groan of mortification. She looks up at me, and I can see she’s chagrined. “She asked me if we were ‘sexually active’. I tried to bolt from the car to avoid the question, but she’s got those damn power locks!”

I snort slightly, picturing Rey getting outfoxed by my mom, but I feel a pulse of annoyance that my mom would be so nosy. I don’t even realize I’m doing it, but I’m clenching my fists until my bones ache. Rey touches my hands lightly, stroking over the knuckles soothingly until I relax my hands.

“Please, don’t be mad at her,” Rey whispers. “Your mom’s trying to take care of me because that’s her way of taking care of you, too.”

I press my lips to Rey’s temple, inhaling the sweet smell of her hair. Strawberries. I don’t understand how Rey would even consider that she’s only worth care because I’m involved. No matter how much my mother loves me, if she didn’t care about Rey, she wouldn’t bother.

I wrap my arms around Rey as if I can shield her from further inquiries from my mother. I try to take a breath to calm myself down. “I still don’t like her making you uncomfortable. She thinks she can demand whatever she wants and that it’s okay because it’s out of love.”

That’s my mother. She expected me to fall in line as a child because it’s what her career required. And now she expects Rey to surrender her privacy upon request.

Boundaries. Maybe that would be a good subject for the next family counseling session. _Mom and Dad, please learn to respect my boundaries._

Rey reddens slightly, and she slips an arm across my waist. I enjoy the press of her little hand against my side. “I asked her to take me to a doctor for birth control.” She lowers her voice a notch. “She’s taking me on Monday.”

Oh. _Oh_.

I feel slightly dazed, like I’ve just been jolted by static electricity. My eyes drift up to the living room ceiling. I want so much to be with Rey. I’ve been hungry for her for months, but having my parents involved, as if they’re watching from the sidelines with buckets of popcorn to see what the crazy, horny teenagers will do next--utterly mortifying. 

Thanks to the frustration and total embarrassment, I barely have room to feel excited that maybe… if Rey is ready… if I can manage to find a quiet place for us… if I don’t combust in a frenzy of sexual yearning first… I might not actually die a virgin.

+++

I can’t sleep. Of course I can’t. I find myself pacing in front of my standing punching bag, glaring at it like it’s my mortal enemy.

When I’d returned from taking Rey home, I’d picked a fight with my parents. Or at least, I’d tried to. My anger couldn’t find an edge to peel up, and they’d endured my passive-aggressive sniping calmly. I’d complained about how they’d talked about the deployments. I’d sniped at Mom for grilling Rey and being nosy. And after he’d heard enough, my dad had looked up at me, setting aside his recipe book.

“Kid, your girlfriend asked us a question. And by all accounts, she enjoyed her time with your mother. If you’re upset about something a little deeper, figure it out. We won’t just sit here while you pick and gripe.”

His voice was stern, but not unkind.

And that’s how I find myself back in the garage, beating the shit out of the punching bag, trying to regain some semblance of control over my emotions.

_“We need you to behave for Uncle Luke.”_

_“He’s a good kid. Always quiet. Never complains.”_

_“Benny’s tough—not a moment’s trouble. Regular little soldier.”_

The loneliness and resentment from my childhood still hurts. The hurt is fading, but ever-present. I’m where I am now because of that hurt.

But that’s not all. I’m embarrassed over having my private life examined by my parents. I feel exposed for wanting Rey. I’ve only told her I love her the once, but I’ve never heard it back from her, and I know how I feel, and I’m certain—so certain—she must feel the same way. I don’t want to be questioned about something that’s so tender.

I give the punching bag a series of brutal strikes with my right fist, and I swear I feel the stand scoot back an inch from the force of impact.

There are all the other emotions swirling, too. The protectiveness I feel towards Rey, not wanting her to be embarrassed or uncomfortable because of things my parents say and do. The frustration and fear about my future from the SAT class after failing so spectacularly on that practice test. And admittedly, the sexual frustration of pining for Rey. That’s still there, burning inside me, the need to be with her.

 _Fuck_.

I punch the bag so hard one last time, I feel an ache clear to my shoulder. I’m dripping with sweat, and I sit heavily in one of the plastic chairs by the door leading back into the kitchen. I feel physically drained. But more in control.

I guess I owe my parents an apology. And I really need to find a decent boxing gym.

+++

The week gets better. I start volunteering at the food bank, tips pick up at the commissary, and my problems with SAT algebra seem to have been a fluke. My parents hug me when I apologize and tell them more of what I’m feeling.

Mom frets when I tell her talking about the deployments still hurts, still makes my emotions tangle and trip me up, despite all my progress. She pours me a cup of coffee and hands me a plate with a croissant while she considers what I’ve told her.

“There’s no on/off switch for feelings, unfortunately. But my advice? Don’t let a bad day dictate your week or your month or the rest of your life.” It’s sensible enough. Figure out what I’m feeling. Understand why. Don’t let the bad thoughts go nuclear. Mom is annoyingly sensible at time. Seems like at least one of us learned to control their temper through family counseling.

My parents apologize, too, for some of their guerrilla parenting, but not for the instinct that drove them to it. Fair enough, even if I’m absolutely positive my mother’s control freak tendencies have something to do with it all, beyond her love for me. I mean, come the fuck on. Like Colonel Organa-Solo is going to run anything but a tight ship.

“I know, I know. You’re my parents. I’m your only child. You can’t help yourselves.” I groan and rub my face dramatically.

“Well, I guess we’re all full of apologies today,” Dad says wryly.

My dad laughs when I respond to that by telling them I _don’t_ apologize for being protective of Rey.

“We know, kid. You sit by that girl like an angry guard dog.” I give him a look, but he just gives me a crooked grin and picks up his newspaper.

He has _no idea_.

Mom taps her watch and points toward the foyer, silently reminding me not to be late for the SAT class. I lean down so she can kiss my cheek, and I’m out the door.

+++

The sun has barely cracked over the horizon on Thursday morning when I meet Poe at the running trail that winds through the sand pines at the eastern end of Fort Windu. He’s wanting to train up, maybe run cross-country in the fall and track in the spring this next school year. I don’t have any goals in mind other than to take the edge off the turmoil that always threatens to bubble over when I have too much time and energy on my hands.

We start slow, letting our legs warm up, and my mind wanders ahead. SAT class. Food bank. See Rey.

“So what do you think?”

“Huh?”

“Paige Tico? Think I’ve got a shot?”

“…no?”

Poe’s eyes widen in outrage, and he glares at me. It doesn’t have any heat to it, however.

“Damn it, Solo. Why not? Is it because she’s in college? She’s only three years older than me. Stranger things have happened.”

“Then… yes?”

“I literally have no idea how you have a girlfriend if this is your idea of relationship advice…” he mutters, picking up the pace out of spite.

“I never said I had any advice for you!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air. I honestly have no idea how I have a girlfriend, either. I’m not exactly a smooth talker. Or handsome. Or charming. Maybe there’s something wrong with Rey if she likes me so much, I consider wryly. “Seriously, though. Talk to her. See if you have anything in common. And don’t rub it in Gwen’s face.”

“Oh, uh… I think she’s moved on…”

“Already?”

“Remember your cookout? I think she and Kaydel might be a thing.”

“Ooooh. Okay, then.” It’s not something I’ll broadcast to others—we live in an isolated Army town in the southern U.S., but it’s no skin off my back. I see Poe studying my reaction.

“Yeah?” he asks, suddenly. “You think it’s okay?”

“Sure. Doesn’t bother me. Shouldn’t bother anyone, honestly.”

Poe somehow seems to relax, his face showing relief. I wonder at it, but it’s not for me to question. He grins suddenly, then smacks my arm companionably before picking up the pace again. Jerk. I huff and lengthen my stride to keep up with him.

+++

“Ben, put me down!”

It’s late on Thursday afternoon, and Rey’s voice rings out with a squeal of laughter. We were wading in the river, waist-deep, when I’d been inspired to pick her up and haul her over my shoulder. I’m not sure if it was the way her nose scrunched when she was splashing water at me, or just an urge to feel her body in my arms, or perhaps, and this is a likely reason, maybe show off a little for her. Okay, I’m showing off for her.

“Or what?” I tease her, hitching her up slightly.

She wriggles and smacks at my rump with open hands. “I’ll be forced to fight you, sasquatch!”

For that, I laugh wickedly and spin, making her shriek. She tries kicking her legs, and I’m thrown a little off balance, so when I right myself, I give her backside a firm slap, and I try not let my hand linger on the firm flesh too long. Rey’s body stiffens and she gasps in mock outrage.

“Benjamin Solo! Your parents did not raise you to treat ladies with such disrespect!”

I slip my hands up to take her by the waist, and I pull her from my shoulder, letting her slide down my chest until she’d standing back in the river. She’s red-faced from all the flailing and shouting, and her light brown hair is a fuzzy halo from where it’s pulled out of her buns. She’s also smiling so widely, her dimples have never seemed deeper.

“I think you liked that.” I grin down at her, then am forced to jump back with a laugh as she lunges at me with a faux-menacing grin. Again, I deflect her easily, and she squeaks as I scoop her up in a bridal carry. She’s taller than a lot of girls, but she’s so slight, she doesn’t seem to weigh much at all. I carry her back to the riverbank and set her down with a kiss to her cheek so we can go back to our towels and dry off.

“Just wait until I do that to you one day!” Her tone is pert, and she waggles a finger at me.

“I’m twice your size!”

“That’s why you should be careful. I have the element of surprise on my side.”

I snort, and I slide an arm around her waist, leaning her back until she’s pinned underneath me. I’m only half over her, but I have about a hundred pounds on her, so she’s stuck for the foreseeable future. “Surprise me, then.”

She seems to consider her options, then kicks her free leg and arm around me and tries to roll me over. I just arch an eyebrow at her, and she grunts with the effort, even attempting to gain leverage by putting her foot back down on the ground. Her attempt fails to even begin to move me. I start laughing, and she finally relents, pouting.

“I’m still waiting on my surprise, sweetheart.”

“What do you recommend I do, then, if I have to fight?” she asks, reaching a hand up to toy with my hair.

“You should probably call me. I’ll take care of it.” I lean into her hand, closing my eyes. Alright, my dad has a point. I really do act like her guard dog. I can’t even resist the way she scruffs her fingers through my hair.

“Be serious,” she says softly. Casually. Too casually. “Maybe I should learn some basics. You know boxing. Can you teach me how to fight?”

I pull back slightly and stare down at her. I feel a thrum of concern vibrate through my heart. My hand cups her face lightly, hating the thought she’s afraid of something. Or someone. “What’s going on that you’re worried about defending yourself?”

Rey shakes her head. “Nothing, really. I was just thinking about the fight at the party and then again at the playing field. It would have been nice to know how to throw a punch or something.”

But that’s not all. I can see it in her face. Rey’s expression is guarded. “Are you sure there’s no other reason?”

The longer she takes to answer me, the more worried I am, and I nudge my leg against hers, prodding her to reply.

“Some of the people who come by Plutt’s are kind of sketchy,” she finally admits. Before I can add anything, she gives my shoulder a squeeze. “They haven’t said or done anything to me! Plutt lets me go in his office to stay out of their way. He says my repair work has nothing to do with them. Everything is fine, really.”

I grunt my reply at her. “No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” her eyes narrow at me. Oh, she didn’t like that one bit. There’s my stubborn Rey, hackles rising.

“You can’t work there. If everything were fine, you wouldn’t be asking me to teach you how to fight. I don’t know what’s going on, but it can’t be good.”

“Get off me,” she mutters, pushing at my shoulder, but instead I cage her in, wrapping my hands around her upper arms. “You can’t tell me where to work.”

“You feel like you need to be ready to defend yourself because there are sketchy people at your workplace—can you see how it sounds to me?” My voice is gruff, and I refrain from the urge to give her a little shake. I can’t sit with her at work all day to make sure she’s okay. I need her to not put herself in harm’s way.

“I’m only in danger of heat stroke there, and you gave me all that Gatorade powder, so there’s nothing to worry about. Don’t you think a woman should be able to defend herself? Just in general?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not what I’m—”

“C’mon, Ben. Teach me to fight. I loved watching you last week.” Her voice is cajoling. “Please? I’d feel better.”

I groan, pressing my face into the curve of her neck. Her sweet voice and her fingers brushing over the back of my neck could convince me to rob a bank for her.

“First of all, boxing isn’t the same thing as fighting. I can show you the different moves, but if someone comes after you, it won’t help you. It can improve your fitness, and if you get the opportunity to punch someone, you’ll be more precise, but it’s not fighting. It’s not self-defense.”

“Why do you do it?” her lips brush against the outer rim of my ear, and she tangles her fingers in my hair.

“Well, um, when I started, it was because it felt good to hit something. It helped me blow off a lot of steam. I was too tired to be angry. But the more I trained, the more I liked the discipline. It’s a brutal workout. And I liked the precision of the sport. Where to hit. How to hit. When to hit. I had to be so totally focused on what I was doing that there wasn’t room for the other thoughts.”

“Did you ever compete?”

I still at her question, and I pull up to look at her. “I did. But never again.”

I can tell there are a hundred questions in her head from the way her eyes flicker over my face, from the way her fingers trace around the edge of an ear, inquisitive and coaxing.

But if Rey can be elusive and distracting, so can I.

I touch my lips to hers gently, letting my hand slide up from her arm to caress the side of her neck as I cup her jaw. My thumb brushes over the hollow of her slender throat, and she shivers as I deepen the kiss, tasting her with little flicks of my tongue.

There’s no conversation for a long time after that, just little sighs of pleasure as we touch each other in the fading sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked another glimpse into the emotional dumpster fire that is young Ben Solo. 
> 
> MREs: Meals Ready-to-Eat. Not known for being delicious. Also known as “Meals Rejected by Everyone.”
> 
> Poe has many crushes. On many people. Of varying genders.
> 
> Seems like Plutt’s is going to be a point of contention! (AS IT SHOULD BE)
> 
> Come find me on Twitter--@junkyardjeditr1


	26. low clearance ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Rey’s a little down. Shopping, movie, and other events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben calls on Friday afternoon, apologetic.

I’ve just walked in the door after a long, miserable day at Plutt’s. My clothes are soaked in sweat, and I have a painful burn on my hand from a slip of the soldering iron, caused from being startled by the unexpected arrival of the rough-looking delivery drivers. I’d been shuffling everything aside so quickly, I’d dropped the iron my hand, hissing in pain. Clutching my hand, I’d run to hide in Plutt’s office for nearly an hour while the men shouted at each other. By the time I made it back to my workbench, Unkar was holding an ice pack over his bruised eye, which left him in an even more sour mood than before. He just glared and shouted at me to get back to work.

As tired as I am, it’s so nice to hear Ben’s deep voice on the other end of the phone line.

“Ben! Finally, a friendly voice today,” I say with a laugh, even if it is dismally true.

He pauses, awkwardly. “Well, now I feel worse.” He lets out a sigh. “I have to cancel on you tonight. Mom got the counselor to squeeze in a family session this afternoon, and then she wants us to have family time.”

My stomach sinks in disappointment, and I slump into the slightly wobbly chair at the dinette set. I sternly remind myself not to be selfish.

“Oh, that’s okay! Don’t feel bad. I had a hard day, so I probably would have just fallen asleep during the movie, anyway.”

Ben laughs a little. For some reason, he insists that seeing _The Wedding Singer_ counts as our first date, even though I’d only been conscious for about ten minutes of it. I still flush with embarrassment every time I think of waking up with Ben leaning over me. He must have thought I was such an oddball, even if he’s apparently okay with that.

“Can you go tomorrow night? I’m at the food bank most of tomorrow.”

“Mmhmm. I’m seeing Rose and Paige tomorrow. They want me to go to the mall with them.” I cannot help but sound mournful at the thought of being forced to shop with the Tico sisters. I adore Rose, and as she’d assured me I would, I really like Paige, too, but a mall is far from my natural habitat. I can’t afford anything there, and I wouldn’t even know what I’d buy if I could. Okay, if I had money, I know what I’d buy—snacks at the food court.

I get paid tomorrow. I’m going by Plutt’s in the morning to pick up my earnings for June, which should be around $1600. A princely sum for a month of work. But that’s the money I need to make it through the school year when I can’t work 40 hours a week. It’s not for fun—only the essentials of survival. Food. Water. Electricity. Car stuff. Lot rent. These are the recurring bills my meager social security check simply won’t cover.

“Then I’ll meet you there. There’s a movie theater in the mall.”

“What’s left of me after Rose and Paige are done will be there for you.”

I can practically hear Ben’s smile. He knows I’m at sea when it comes to fashion. My fashion goals generally consider whether something is clean, is in good shape, and covers the essential body parts. I’ve never had the luxury to worry about more.

I hear some muffled talking in the background. “I’ve gotta go. Mom’s glaring at me. Lo-later, Rey.”

The phone clicks, and I stare at the receiver. Lo-what?

+++

“Reeey! Look at you! You’re so cute!” Rose squeals, dancing around me in the dressing room.

Paige gives me a thumbs up before turning back to the mirror to adjust the sleeves on the dress she’s been trying on. The Tico parents had told them to get new summer clothes and new dresses for church, and Rose and Paige had taken that as a major directive to get lots of new other things.

My afternoon with the sisters has been nothing short of traumatic. They’ve sprayed me with perfume. They’ve made me try on make up at roughly three hundred cosmetics counters. Now they’re making me try clothes on with them. And all I really want is a pretzel. And Ben.

“I don’t know… it’s not really me…” I mutter, looking at the outfit. The skirt’s too short. The top’s too low cut, and the spaghetti straps don’t make me feel confident in the structural integrity of the garment.

And beyond that, I don’t like how bony my shoulders are, and I don’t know where I’d ever wear an outfit like this. Certainly not to Plutt’s or the grocery store or to Ben’s house. “No, I don’t think so. I can’t even wear a bra with it… I thought you were supposed to be trying on clothes for church? Why are you making me try on…”

“Rey, this is how girls our age dress! Paige has practically the same outfit. She says everyone at her college dresses like this.”

Paige nods. “The skirt just looks short because you’re leggy. We can find something longer for you. You really need to get that top, though. Green is nice on you.”

I shake my head. “I feel naked. My bones are too poky.”

Had my collarbones always looked that sharp? I look at myself in the mirror, and I fret over the knobby sharpness of my chest and shoulders. I haven’t been on a scale in a while. I might have lost some weight since school let out—the heat at Plutt’s makes me too queasy to eat lunch. Sometimes I can manage to eat a granola bar, but that’s about it. It’s hard to tell since I usually wear loose-fitting clothes, anyway. The longer I’m in this fitting room, the more panicked I feel.

Rose sighs, but I just give her a mulish look. I’m not really looking to spend—I glance down at the price tag--$28 on a single clothing item. Good lord. No way. I bet I can find something with the original tags still on it at Goodwill for $3.

“It costs too much, anyway,” I tell her. “And I don’t need new clothes.”

Rose and Paige give each other a look at that statement. They are clearly not in agreement. “We can get it for you,” Paige says. “Mom and Dad would never itemize one of our shopping quests.”

“No, it’s okay. I’d feel like I was stealing from your parents,” I say, giving them a stricken look and shaking my head.

Rose tries again. “C’mon, Rey. My parents totally wouldn’t care. My mother thinks you’re the best ever since you saved my butt in math this year, aaaand you fixed her toaster oven. Please try on something else! Maybe you’ll find something you love. Don’t you want to dress up for Ben?”

I redden. I’ve got a few nicer shirts I wear when I know we’re eating dinner with his parents. Otherwise, I just… dress the way I always dress. Ben hasn’t said anything about it. He seems happy enough, I think. I think. Is he okay with how I look? I realize then that I’m spiraling. My pulse is racing uncomfortably, and my face feels hot. I can feel tears at the corners of my eyes, and I bite the inside of my cheek as hard as I can to prevent myself from crying. I’m overreacting, I tell myself. I’m being sensitive.

I take a breath and remind myself that Rose and Paige are just trying to treat me like a sister. They don’t understand, or they wouldn’t be doing this to me.

“What about you? Maybe you should pick out something to wear on a date with Finn,” I tell her, desperate to deflect the conversation. “You always look so pretty in red.”

I hand her a red top we’d brought into the dressing room with us, and while Rose is busy changing into it, I turn around and change back into my sensible green shorts with the cargo pockets, and the black short-sleeved boat-neck top that I thought went with pretty much anything.

My pretzel from the food court is my solace as we talk about their shopping loot, Fort Windu’s gossip mill, and which actors we all think are cute. I feel like the Tico sisters are disappointed I wouldn’t let them buy me anything, even though they chatter on happily as if nothing’s amiss. Maybe nothing is wrong in their eyes, and I’m just too self-conscious.

When I finally get to meet up with Ben, I hug him so tightly he groans, but I refuse to let go until he kisses the top of my head and gently pries my arms off him.

“Everything okay?” His warm caramel gaze moves over my face, and I know he’s picking up on my mood. He slips an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. “Didn’t you have fun with Rose and Paige?”

“Yeah. I just really missed you.”

Ben studies me for a long moment, concern etched on his face. “I already got our tickets. Let’s go sit.”

“Think we’re going to get to the bottom of the massive global conspiracy covering up the existence of aliens?” I ask him playfully. I’ve been so excited to see _X-Files:_ _Fight the Future_ , and I grin up at him pertly.

“Oh, definitely.”

+++

Ben crouches slightly so I can hop up on his back like a little koala, hitching a piggyback ride as exit the movie theater and head into the lobby. I can walk just fine, but that’s not really the point. I rather like wrapping my arms around his broad body, and any excuse will do.

“A beeeee? Mulder and Scully’s kiss got interrupted by a bee!”

I’m happy after the movie. And, as I’d pointed out to him during the ending credits, I had managed not to fall asleep. I’m sure I would never recover from the embarrassment if I passed out on our the second movie date.

After a moment, Ben lets me slip down his back to stand up on my own. Too wiggly to hold still for a piggyback ride, I guess.

“He still got to see her naked at the end.”

“Covered in alien goo. Not hot, Ben.”

Ben laughs and leans down to kiss me briefly before taking my hand. He’s teased me for months about shipping Mulder and Scully, but I think he sees the appeal of two people on a quest for truth finding love and respect with one another.

“Their travel expense reports have to be terrible. That’ll be the reason The X-Files gets shut down in the end. The government isn’t going to pay for that forever.” Ben swings my hand in his and as we turn, I accidentally bump into a tall, pasty redhead. Armitage Hux. Ugh.

He takes a step back, holding up his hands defensively. He clearly hadn’t seen us, and now that he has, his dismay is palpable.

Instinctively, I look around the theater lobby to see if his usual companion is around, but he appears not to be, and I heave a sigh of relief. It’s just Hux. Standing awkwardly. Looking nervous.

Next to me, I feel Ben take a step forward, and I automatically tug at his hand to make him stop whatever it is he’s about to say or do. I can feel the frustration vibrate out of him, and I feel a pulse of panic. I know Ben only needs the slimmest of excuses to slam a fist into Hux’s face, and I do not want to see a fistfight tonight, as punchable as Hux tends to be. _Defuse. Defuse now. Must defuse_.

“Hey, Hux!” Is my voice always that high-pitched? “What movie are you seeing?”

Both Ben and Hux look at me incredulously, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing at the expressions on their faces.

“Where’s your friend?” Ben asks tersely, and I can feel him posturing, straightening his shoulders and standing more aggressively. Hux is about as tall as Ben, but not so broad. I feel a flicker of my own anger that Ben’s not following my cues.

“He’s not my friend anymore,” Hux says, acidly. “And anyway, he’s grounded for crashing his father’s computer with a virus.”

Ben and I keep our faces carefully neutral upon hearing the latter bit of information. Looks like Ben’s part of the plan kind of worked, too. Hearing that their previously tight friendship had unraveled was interesting news--then again, Hux had seemed less than impressed with Snap at the playing field.

“Okay, enjoy your movie!” I chirp, and I take Ben’s elbow and tug until he gives Hux a final glare and comes with me, huffing with annoyance. I glance up at Ben and see him clenching his jaw, and his neck is tense. His eyes storm as he slips an arm around my waist possessively.

I can’t help but glance back at Hux, and I see him watching us leave, a contemplative frown on his face. For once, he doesn’t look like venom is coursing through his veins, and I wonder at the change in him. I remember, suddenly, the way he’d helped me up after I’d been thrown aside.

Perhaps… Well, I’ll ask Ben about it another day. Right now, he looks fit to start a fire.

+++

“Rey…” Ben starts, reaching for my hand. We’d sat in near silence, eating our barbecue sandwiches on the riverbank. Ordinarily the quiet between us was peaceful, but tonight there was a heaviness of things unsaid. I let Ben take my hand, and I scoot closer to him on the blanket. It’s not quite dark yet, and the air is still warm—it reaches around a hundred degrees every day this time of year.

When Ben drifts off, his plush lips pressing together in a slight frown, I squeeze his hand, prompting him to continue.

“Is everything okay with you?” His voice is hesitant, and I see the worry etched in the set of his eyes. “I know we kind of argued on Thursday, and today you seemed so upset before the movie. And I hope it didn’t upset you to see Hux after the movie…”

“I’m fine, really,” I tell him softly. “You _were_ extremely bossy on Thursday, but I know you just want me to be safe. And I was just feeling a little sad today, but it was all better once I hugged you.”

I kiss his cheek lightly and lean my head against his shoulder. “What about you? You were so edgy on Monday--I thought you were going to yell at your parents during dinner, and I thought you might beat up Hux today. Did your counseling session go okay? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. If it’s too personal.”

“Mmm, well, I’ve just been… It’s kind of stressful right now, you know? SAT, volunteering, counseling, college applications, taking grocery shifts… And, um, I have a hard time understanding all my feelings sometimes, and I’m still working through things with my parents. But I’m alright. We talked it out, and now I have a new workbook to fill out.” Ben laughs wryly at that last point before continuing. “And Dad’s taking me to see some boxing gyms so I have a physical outlet.”

“Am I causing you stress?” My voice breaks a little at the thought. I know he’s been so tense and concerned about everything regarding me—protecting me from Snap and Hux, worrying about my illegal driving and my terrible job, even fretting over my health. I’m a _disaster_ , and Ben has a far softer heart than he’d ever admit, and I wonder, not for the first time, if I’m hurting Ben by letting him get pulled into the slow-motion wreck that is my life.

“No!” His voice is harsh, and he pulls me into his lap and hugs me tight. His lips press against my temple tenderly, and he rocks me slightly. “You’re what’s keeping me from freaking out, Rey. I mean—not like—don’t feel pressured. It’s just… you’re everything to me.”

Ben’s hands caress my back gently, and he begins to kiss me, his lips warm and seeking, before he pulls back abruptly. His voice is half-amused, half-annoyed. “Shit.”

I look up at him, confused, and he cups my cheek, his face serious.

“You deflected the question again, and I fell for it. Again.” He frowns at me, and I duck the eye contact. “Alright, you do stress me out. Especially when I know you’re hiding things.”

My heart constricts. It’s such an ingrained habit to not talk about myself, to encourage other people to speak, to make sure attention is pulled away from me and my problems. Half the time, I do it without thinking. “I’m not hiding anything.”

“Then why do you look like you’re trying not to cry?”

“I’m not!” My voice bleats out, and it’s such a pathetic little protest that I cringe. Ben tugs me against his chest, holding me tightly, and I can feel his heartbeat, so strong and sure.

“Please tell me what made you sad today, Rey.” His deep voice is plaintive, and I feel acutely that I’m hurting him, and I feel rotten. “I can’t be there for you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

I take a ragged breath, and I feel something inside myself crumple. I’m tired of fighting. Of holding up appearances. If Ben wants to see the cracks in me, I’ll let him.

“Nothing bad happened. Just… Rose and Paige wanted to go shopping, and they begged me to come with them because they said it would be fun to try on clothes together. I shouldn’t have gone. They’re so sweet, but they don’t understand how _poor_ I am… and when I tell them I think something is too expensive--which is _everything_ in that fucking mall--they offer to buy it for me. And then I feel even worse.”

Ben’s thumb strokes the back of my neck as I lean my head on his shoulder. He doesn’t offer comment, just a brush of lips on my forehead.

“I felt pathetic all day. I have these friends who are so amazing, and I felt so out of place. I’ve _never_ had new clothes. Not ever. It’s so _easy_ for them. They have each other, their parents, and whatever they want, whenever they want. I swear I’m not jealous—I want them to have all of that. But they don’t understand how it makes me feel to stand and watch. And I don’t want their charity.”

I wipe at my eyes when my vision blurs with tears, and I try to sit up, but Ben keeps me tucked against his chest, hugging me tightly.

“It won’t be like this forever,” he murmurs. “Please don’t cry, sweetheart.”

My Ben. My grumbling, protective Ben, whose rough edges smooth away whenever he gets the chance to comfort me. It cracks my heart in two that I am always stuck lying to him, bending reality to protect myself. And him. It would be bad for him if he knew.

His voice is soft but deep as he consoles me. “It’s not fair--you deserve new things, too. Can’t you let me—” his voice takes on the urgent note it always does when he wants me to let him help. I don’t know how he can. He’s a high school kid, just like me, and I can’t be a burden to him, not when he’s already balancing so much.

“No, Ben.” My voice is harsher than I mean it to be. “Please don’t. I’ve got everything I need. I just can’t let Rose bully me into another shopping trip. It’s my fault for going. I just wanted to feel normal, and it backfired.”

“Don’t say that. You are normal.”

“You’re normal. Rose and Paige are normal,” I tell him gently. Normal is having parents or someone who cares, or who can at least sign a driver’s license form. Normal is knowing when your next meal is going to be. Normal is knowing where you’ll be a month or six months from now.

“Maybe nobody is normal.” He kisses me softly, smoothing my hair, and I just relax into his arms. Life doesn’t seem so bad when I’ve got Ben Solo’s arms around me.

+++

On Sunday afternoon, Leia sets Ben and I to laundry duty, saying she wants the afternoon off, so we’re busy folding clothes out of the dryer in the garbage. Ben’s mood is considerably lighter than it was the last time I was at his house, and he grins as he folds the last tee shirt and stacks it in the laundry basket.

“C’mere,” he says, and he loops an arm around my waist and plants me on top of the dryer with an easy movement.

“What are you doing?” I ask, knowing full well the answer to the question, as Ben crowds me, stepping between my knees and planting his hands on my hips.

“Nothin’” he says, leaning to kiss and nip at the curve of my neck.

“Feels like something,” I say teasingly. I’m feeling a little better since yesterday, and Ben has been sweet with me all afternoon, telling me about his SAT class, the people he’s meeting at the food bank, and the crazy Army spouses he encounters when bagging groceries at the commissary. He fussed over the burn on my hand without fussing _at_ me, and whenever his parents turned their backs, he’d press a kiss to my cheek.

Ben’s big hands hitch me closer to the edge of the dryer, and I feel him smile against my neck, licking playfully under my earlobe. As his hips press closer, I definitely feel _something_ against my thigh.

His laugh is low against my skin, and he finally, _finally_ , moves his lips mine, kissing me hungrily. His hands slip under the hem of my shirt, and his fingers easily find my ribcage and dance over the ridges, making me shiver. I feel Ben pause and kiss under my jaw as his fingers brush over my ribs again, before moving up to cup my breasts through the thin cotton bra.

A hand moves down to gently curl around my ribs once again, warm and firm. His eyes glance up at me, and whatever he’s thinking, he doesn’t say it, just continues to kiss me. I slip my hands through his hair, tugging at it the way he likes, and he growls slightly into my mouth, leaning over me to cage me under him.

“I’ve been trying to be a gentleman, but I am just so damn horny for you,” he mutters, biting at my lower lip. He squeezes a breast, then pushes my bra up so he can tease the nipple with his thumb, and I whimper into his mouth. Ben takes this as a cue to slide his hand from my ribs to slide inside the front of my shorts and cup my sex. The way his thick fingers feel through the thin cotton of my panties makes me exhale a shaky breath and I find myself trying to grind against him.

“Ben, I—” I start, tugging him down so I can kiss him heatedly, feeling desire rising quickly in me, burning through my veins.

“Mmm. I wanna come… can you help me come, Rey? Please?”

I nod, kissing along his jawline. “Mmhmm, yes.”

Ben makes a small noise somewhere between a growl and a groan, and I feel one of his hands leave my body as he unzips his shorts and pushes them down enough, along with his boxers, to free his cock. I look between our bodies at how impossibly large he is, how red it is, the tip glistening already, and Ben and I both blush as my eyes widen.

“I _told_ you,” he says teasingly through a shy smile as he leans to kiss me, his hands making quick work of my shorts, tugging them down my legs and leaving me in my panties.

He leans over me, pressing his hips into mine, and at the first surge of his cock against my core, we both shudder in pleasure. His lips find mine, warm and tender, and he slips an arm under my shoulders to hold me close to his body. My arms slip around his neck, and as I nip and lick at his lips playfully, his free hand guides my thighs to hook around his hips.

He’s so hot—his entire body radiates heat—and I find myself panting underneath him as he rocks himself over me. Each movement knocks the thick head into my clit, sending jolts of pleasure sparking through my body, and I arch my hips for more, ignoring the metallic groan the dryer makes from the force of Ben’s thrusts. With only the thin fabric separating us, the friction is making me increasingly wet with arousal, and I make a needy, whining little sound into his mouth.

The sound seems to affect Ben, and his whole body shivers. Ben’s lips move to my neck, then my shoulder, and he bites down lightly as he thrusts harder against me, groaning. “Fuck, I’m gonna come… I can’t…”

I can feel his body tense and still, and then I feel the twitch of his hips as he makes a few stuttering thrusts. He moans into my neck, and I feel the splatter of his warm cum low on my belly.

His hands move to caress my thighs, and he mouths at my neck briefly in a slow, wet kiss. “Sorry… I… Mmm.” He grumbles slightly. “I wanted you to come, too.”

He presses his face into my shoulder one last time, and I feel his teeth graze gently before he straightens up, gently helping me sit back up, looking flushed and pleased and sheepish all at once. I kiss him, caressing the side of his face, still feeling shivery. I need more, but I’m not eager to get caught by his parents, either.

“Let me…” he murmurs, and after tucking his softening cock back into his boxers and shorts, he grabs a clean hand towel out of the laundry we’ve just folded and wipes his spend from my thighs and belly, then throws it back into the washing machine.

When he hands me my shorts, I slide off the dryer, and after dressing and trying to smooth my hair, I wrap my arms snugly around his waist, reveling in how solid he feels. He looks a little apologetic, but also quite a bit more relaxed, and his hands sooth over my back affectionately.

“I owe you one,” he whispers as he kisses me.

“Yeah, you do,” I whisper back, and I give his ass a smack that startles him and makes him jump. Ben laughs, and he picks up one of the laundry baskets.

“Let’s go act like nothing just happened,” he says with a wry grin, and I pick up the other, giggling helplessly.

If Han and Leia suspect anything, they don’t say a word about our flushed faces and mussed hair.

+++

It’s Monday night, and I’m tucked into a corner of the couch with a heating pad on my tummy, dozing in front of the TV when the phone rings. I’ve been curled up since Leia returned me home from the doctor’s appointment. After sipping ginger ale, a little treat I’d made myself while shopping for food this week, and poking at a bowl of ramen noodles, I’d felt like lying down.

I fumble with the receiver as I try to hold it up to my ear.

“Hmm—hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. Mom said you weren’t feeling well. You okay?”

I smile into the receiver. “Yeah, of course! I just wanted to rest after the appointment. Stomach felt a little funny.”

The exam was fine, and the doctor was considerate, but I’ve had minor cramping all afternoon and evening. My body is not used to getting poked about quite like that. I’m relieved to have the whole embarrassing thing done.

“Do you want to come over tomorrow? Pizza?”

“Mmm. I think that’s just what I need.” Dr. Kalonia would agree—she’d weighed me and pinched me with the fat calipers, then told me I needed to add a few pounds. So close on the heels of seeing my bony shoulders while trying on clothes at the mall, I’d been upset by this and asked Leia if I really looked that terrible. Ben’s mom had shaken her head and given me a hug.

There’s a long pause, and I finally hear Ben clear his throat a little. His next words are spoken so rapidly, I barely catch them at first. “Didyougetthething?”

“Wha—oh!” I blush slightly, and I shift my left arm to look at the pressure bandage wrapped around my bicep. “Yeah. Um, yeah.”

It had taken all of two minutes for the doctor to insert the little implant in my arm, which seems ironically insignificant for the job it’s expected to do.

“Did it hurt?” He sounds so concerned, and his rumbly voice is boyishly uncertain.

“No, just a little pinch in my arm. I’ll have a nice bruise, but it’s alright.”

“Did Maz ask where you were? You didn’t get in trouble?”

“Oh, no. Maz just thinks it’s sweet of your mom to take me out again. She feels bad that she can’t take me places anymore.” I think Maz would be glad of Leia’s interest. She’d be comforted that someone cares about me. I imagine Maz’s little smile and her kindly eyes behind her big glasses, and the way she’d stroke my hair when I didn’t feel well.

“Well, Mom really likes you. She doesn’t know why you put up with me, but she’s happy you’re around.” His voice is amused, and I think of the way his dimples form when he’s laughing.

I feel a tightening in my chest. It’s painful, and I hold my breath until the feeling passes. “I think you know why I put up with you.”

“I do know.” Ben’s voice is so tender, I close my eyes, relishing the sound, even as I feel the old pulse of guilt in my stomach.

One of these days, I’m going to have to say the words out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OBVIOUSLY, Ben would take Rey to see X-Files: Fight the Future. Mulder and Scully were the OG internet ship, and I am still mad at that bee, and I will die on that hill. And yes—The X-Files did almost get shut down at the end of season 7 because of their exorbitant expense reports. It’s not cheap hunting down alien conspiracies and flukemen. Yeah, these are the things I’ll die knowing.
> 
> Hmmm. What could Rey be thinking about re: Hux? 
> 
> And yes, if you thought a trip to the mall for Rose and Rey would be fun, WRONG. I can ruin anything with ANGST. And by God, I WILL DO EXACTLY THAT. 
> 
> Alright, alright. I gave you a little smut. Now do you forgive me for the angst?
> 
> And can you believe it? Rey’s never L-worded Ben! COME ON, girl! What’s holding you back? (Me, I am. Because I’m a monster.)
> 
> I'm on the Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1


	27. falling rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Making birthday plans; scenes from a week in the life of Ben Solo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eager to touch her, even more eager to wrap her in every bit of warmth I can give her, I kiss Rey senseless when I pick her up after my volunteer hours at the food bank, making sure to kiss the inside of her arm where the doctor put the implant, causing her to blush and laugh. There’s an unspoken promise between us now that makes us alternately boldly playful and shyly tender. Every cell in my body aches for her.

After eating pizza with my parents, and much rolling of our eyes at my dad’s terrible jokes, and putting up with my mother’s affectionate but thorough interrogation about our day, Rey and I are snuggled under a blanket on my living room couch, shoulder to shoulder, watching reruns on TV.

Dad’s already lurked past the living room more than once, checking in on us and making smooching noises at us until I throw a decorative pillow at him with a growl, and he wanders off, laughing heartily. Mom has checked in, too, dropping kisses on the tops of our heads and reminding me that I’ve got SAT class and more volunteering at the food bank tomorrow.

“Excited for your birthday?” I bump Rey’s shoulder with mine playfully. “You’re lucky it’s so close to a national holiday. For the rest of your life, you’re guaranteed a day off on your birthday.”

Rey gives me a cheeky smile. “And the best part is, as a 3rd of July baby, I can count on seeing fireworks every year, and there’s always a solid chance to eat my weight in hamburgers and hotdogs.”

Towns with Army posts almost always have lavish 4th of July celebration, and Jakku, NC, home of Fort Windu, is no different. Soldiers get a four-day weekend in honor of the holiday, there are large fireworks displays scheduled, most of the Army brigades are having cookouts for the soldiers and their families, and even a small carnival has set up. Essentially, anyone who puts their mind to it can eat nothing but hotdogs and potato salad from Friday through Monday. It’s the Army way.

“Is there anything special you want for your birthday?” I can’t help but grin and press a slow kiss to her warm, soft cheek. She laughs softly.

“I don’t really need anything. But I’ll take another one of those, I think.”

“Yeah? I think I can spare at least one kiss for you.” One dozen. One hundred. As many as she likes.

I lean into her heavily, grinning broadly and pushing her sideways until she lets me collapse on top of her with a squeal, her slight form wriggling to avoid getting crushed. I keep her playfully pinned under me, kissing the underside of her jaw.

“Plutt’s is closed for the holiday weekend. He says business will be too slow to open the doors,” she tells me, tracing gentle hands over my shoulders.

“Hmmm. Sounds like I should spend the day with you, then. What do you usually do for your birthday?”

Rey slips her fingers through my hair, scratching her fingernails gently across my scalp until I sigh and close my eyes. When she touches me like this, it’s as if every ounce of tension in me turns to jelly. Her voice sounds strangely wistful.

“Well… Maz always makes me a special breakfast. When I was little, she’d take me to see a movie, but now we rent a movie, since she doesn’t really like to go out anymore.”

“Would she mind if I borrowed you for a little bit? I’d like to take you out.” I ask, nudging my nose against the curve of her neck before kissing it. “Or maybe I could bring something for your breakfast? And meet Maz? A breakfast birthday party?”

A birthday breakfast seems like a good reason to meet her elusive aunt. It’s been months since we started dating, and I’m hoping there will be many more months.

Rey shakes her head, and I feel the flare of disappointment in my stomach. “It might be better if you come get me after breakfast.”

I’m about to point out how odd it is—again—that she is so cagey about letting me meet Maz, but Rey chooses this moment to slide a hand under my tee shirt to caress my back as she kisses me, her lips warm and soft. I shiver under her touch, feeling a ripple of want down my spine.

I sigh into the kiss, licking my tongue into her mouth with teasing flicks as she parts her lips for me, entirely forgetting what we were talking about.

It’s not until much later, after I’ve taken her home for the night, that I realize she’s done it again—slipped out of another conversation about Maz like a thief in the night.

I’d be angry if it didn’t hurt so much. I wonder if somehow, after all this time, she still doesn’t trust me, and the thought blooms with a dull pain in my heart. I don’t know what else I can do to convince her that I’m trustworthy.

+++

As always, Finn, Rose, and Poe use the SAT class break to harass me, though I suppose they’d consider it conversation. I’m less in the mood for their antics than usual, the gloom of last night’s realization still casting a shadow. All I want to do is find Rey and make her tell me why she can’t trust me.

“Sasquatch, you know kidnapping is illegal, right? You can’t just keep Rey locked in your basement all summer,” Finn jibes at me with a great deal of good humor, rummaging through his backpack for quarters for the vending machine. “Some of us want to see her, too.”

I glare at him. “You know she works all the time. And her aunt isn’t doing so great.”

He grins at me and bounds from the room when he has the requisite number of coins for a Coke.

Rose immediately picks up the slack, with bright eyes and a big smile. “Please tell me you’re doing something romantic for her birthday!”

Poe is all ears for this question, and he props his chin on his fist, batting his eyes suggestively. “Yeah, squatch, are you going to bring her a deer carcass?”

I grumble and try to ignore them, opening the SAT book to another section on algebraic equations. But, as always, Rose is relentless. She and my mother should hang out. Actually, no. That might ruin my life.

“Well, my parents already said Rey could spend the night at my house on the 4th. So she won’t have to go home. If you take my meaning, Solo,” Rose chirps.

Her expression is very arch, and she looks self-satisfied.

“Oh, is that so?” I say mildly. I’m gathering Rose is planning another session of sneaking out with a sleepy and befuddled Rey in tow. Except I’m sure this time, Rey won’t be surprised.

“Just doing you a favor, squatch. And you!” she points at Poe, who suddenly looks alarmed. “Paige says you’re not a total pain in the butt, so you can come to the carnival with us.”

That might be the least confidence-building thing I’ve ever heard, but Poe looks thrilled. “So you’re saying there’s a chance!” he shouts, pumping a fist in the air.

I still don’t know why I’m friends with these people, I grump silently. Okay, I do know. I shouldn’t be so sour when all they’re doing is trying to include me. I sigh and try to work some more math problems.

+++

“Ben? When you’re done packing those boxes, can you come to the office? We need help filing today.”

I look up from the table where I’m adding a container of old-fashioned oats to each box. These are the boxes getting delivered to needy seniors in the morning, and I’m in charge of making sure they all have the same contents. Every day at the food bank is different. Some days, I’m on pantry duty, helping people select their groceries, and other days, I’m in the warehouse stacking and sorting food or packing boxes. Other days, I do office work—lots of stapling and copying.

The thing I’ve learned about hunger since starting at the food bank is that not everyone looks hungry. Not in the way you’d think. There isn’t a line of emaciated people with shaking hands and sunken eyes, waiting for food. Nor are the people who come to the food pantry disheveled or dirty or indigent-looking. Indigent isn’t a look, it seems. No, most of the people who come in here just look a little tired, but perfectly ordinary.

Like Rey. After working here, I understand that it’s hard to see the signs sometimes. Rey’s dazzling, friendly smile and quick wit hide a lot. It took me long enough, when all the evidence was there from the beginning, even though all I saw was her pretty face full of sly humor and achingly shy smiles.

I think back to Sunday night, and how she’d felt under my hands. So thin, I could feel the ridges of her ribs just under her skin. Fragile, even though I know the pulse of life in her is so vibrant and strong. Even though I know she’d argue against the obvious evidence. And after her appointment on Monday, Mom had muttered something about Rey being told to gain weight by the doctor. There’s a jar of multi-vitamins I’m supposed to pass on to Rey now, and from the look on Mom’s face, I guess Rey will be dragging home more leftovers for the foreseeable future. I feel a burst of anger towards the faceless Maz—is she even feeding her? Does she see how Rey’s struggling? Why isn’t she doing anything?

I try to remind myself that Rey says Maz is sickly and old, that she’s not neglectful.

In the office, I spend a long afternoon filing approved applications for the food pantry. I read through some of them idly before stapling them to manila folders and sorting them into filing cabinets, trying to see what the stories are behind the faces I see every week.

Families where the parents are disabled or where the medical bills have pushed them into poverty. Senior citizens whose social security isn’t stretching far enough. Young mothers who are trying to work and go to school and raise their children. People who’ve just had some bad luck—layoffs from the work they’d relied on, sudden deaths upsetting the balance of finances, or people who’ve taken in relatives who’d become homeless or too ill to care for themselves. It seems like there were as many stories behind hunger as I could imagine.

Rey’s story fits in. She’s a girl with an elderly guardian subsisting on social security. I’ve already seen applications accepted from people in similar situations. On my way out the door, I hesitate for the barest of seconds before picking up an application packet and sliding it into my backpack.

+++

Rey’s voice is sweet and light over the phone as she asks me how my day was. I’m sprawled in bed, cradling my phone against my ear.

“Fine—regular day, I guess. Everyone’s dying to see you this weekend. They think I’m holding you captive. Oh! Rose says you’re spending the night with her on the 4th.”

“Am I? I wish she’d tell me when she plans my weekend for me.” Rey sounds amused. “I guess I better call Linda and ask her to come stay with Maz.”

I marvel, not for the first time, at how forgiving Rey is. Not that she’d blamed Rose for Saturday, but so quickly gathering her hurt feelings and moving on—Rey’s heart is a miraculous thing.

Rey cuts in before I can speak again. “What’s the plan for the weekend? You said there are tons of picnics and all that we can go to—I know Rose and Paige are excited about the carnival.”

“Well, someone has a birthday on Friday,” I say with a laugh. “That’s the day of my mom’s brigade cookout. I said we’d be there to help set up. Saturday, we have the carnival and fireworks. Sunday, my dad’s going to the veterans’ cookout, and he says we can tag along for that, if you want.”

“I hope you know I meant it when I said I’d eat my weight in junk food this weekend,” she says with a laugh.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, Miss Sands.”

“Prepare to be astonished, Mr. Solo.”

I can’t help but grin at the playful challenge. When her giggles fade, Rey startles me with a sudden question.

“Ben? I’ve been thinking about how we ran into Hux the other night. D’you think maybe we should give him back his photos?”

I sit up abruptly, and I’m sure Rey can hear the groan of my mattress springs with the force of my movement. I feel tense, just at the thought.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not, Rey. That guy’s a piece of shit.” My voice is a snarl at just the thought of that asshole. I think of all the nasty things he’d said about her, things I’d never tell Rey in a hundred years. I never want to see the kind of embarrassment and hurt that would haunt her face if she knew. “Why? Why would you even think he’s worth forgiving?”

“I didn’t say I forgave him… I just… I don’t have much of a stomach for torture. Not if he’s actually sorry…”

“He hasn’t earned your mercy.” Or mine. He never will, as far as I’m concerned.

“Ben…” she says softly, and I can picture her face so easily. She’s closing her lovely hazel eyes, leaning into the phone receiver.

“Rey. Trust me. He’s not worth your kindness. You won’t let me beat him up, so please let’s just keep him feeling nervous.”

“Okay.” Her voice sounds a little faint, as if she’s not quite convinced. “Maybe eventually. If he apologizes.”

I make a snorting noise, and she laughs slightly. “I don’t know how you’re so optimistic about people.”

“Not all people, Ben. And what’s the alternative, anyway?”

“Being a moody sasquatch like me?”

“Well, I do rather like my moody sasquatch,” she teases. “And you’re not half as moody as you claim to be.”

“That’s you being optimistic again,” I tell her with a laugh.

“Hmmf. Well, I think I should know by now. Anyway, I’ve gotta get to bed. Plutt’s was awful today, and I’m exhausted. See you Friday?”

“I’ll come get you around lunch time, birthday girl.”

“Sounds good. Goodnight, Ben. Good luck finding a boxing gym tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

“I’ll give a full report. Goodnight, sweetheart. See you Friday.”

Her voice chirps one last time. “I lo-I’ll see you then.”

Lo-what? I stare at my phone for a second in disbelief after she hangs up. Was she finally going to say it?

I can hardly sleep after that.

+++

“Is that Rey!?” Dad’s head whips to the side briefly as we drive down Windu Blvd in his silver Falcon, on our way to check out a boxing gym I’d looked up. “I swear, I just saw Rey driving the other way—by herself!”

“You’re seeing things, old timer. Rey doesn’t work this late—she’s probably already at home.” I shake my head, feeling a pulse of concern. I’ve been keeping Rey’s secrets—her job, her driving. At least now that she’s finally turning sixteen, she can take the drive test and get licensed, and she won’t be roaming illegally in Maz’s old car.

“Mmm. I don’t know any other girls who wear their hair like that.” Dad gives me a sidelong look, suspicious. I’d be annoyed if he weren’t actually on the right track. “You know something you haven’t been sharing?”

“No—and you’ve got to be wrong. She hasn’t even scheduled her drive test yet. I’ve been telling her to do it before they book up for the whole month.”

Rey keeps assuring me she will, but every time I ask her if she’s scheduled, she says she forgot. For someone who’s most burning desire was a driver’s license just a couple months ago, she’s been dragging her feet about taking the final step. And I know full-well she could pass. After all, she’s been driving around Jakku without a license all damn month--and probably longer than that, if I’m being honest--without getting a ticket.

Dad shakes his head. “Kid, that was her. She’s out joyriding. Never would have thought it…”

Joyriding is definitely an exaggeration. There’s nothing joyful about Rey driving to and from work. But I can’t say anything like that to my dad—it’ll just lead to more questions.

“So what if she is? She’s sixteen tomorrow, and she’ll test right after that. Maybe she’s just practicing.”

“And you’re telling me you didn’t know?” He sounds skeptical, so I just snort and roll my eyes as if I’m extremely offended.

“I mean, she told me she runs errands for Maz, but I assumed Maz was _with_ her…”

Dad shakes his head wryly, turning into the parking lot of the Jakku Boxing Gym. “Well, let’s not tell your mother. And you tell that girlfriend of yours to get legal. Jesus, you kids are going to make me an old man before my time. Every day, always something.” He’s grumbling at this point, but in a reasonably good-humored fashion.

The boxing gym tour doesn’t take long. The manager shows us the classrooms and training rooms, different fitness areas, and of course, there’s the center ring for sparring. The whole place smells like sweat, and it’s noisy with the grunts and thuds of people working the bags and sparring with each other. I don’t pay much mind as the manager describes their competitive program. I don’t want any part of that.

_“A boy like you has potential. Once you get more muscle on you, you could win some matches.”_

_The tall man in the mustard yellow track jacket circles me where I stand at a small punching bag, where I’ve been working it furiously. He’s even taller than I am, with a face that looks half-mangled after what I imagine are years of fights, but he’s broader through the shoulders—I’m still all angles. Bony shoulders, sharp elbows. A boy not yet grown into his size._

_“Oh, uh, I just like working the bags,” I mumble, looking down at the floor. I haven’t been coming to the gym for long. I feel awkward, and I shift uneasily on my feet. I don’t really like to talk to anyone at the gym. Or home. Or school._

_“That’s for people who aren’t serious about their training. You should join my class. Learn to spar. Lots of boys your age are working with me to learn the discipline it takes to be a fighter.”_

_His voice is slippery smooth. I can see how crooked his hands are from probably countless breaks, but they still look powerful. “What you’re doing here is child’s play, my boy.”_

“And if you want private coaching—” the manager looks me up and down, and I can see he’s assessing my size and the reach of my arms. I tense, slightly, and my dad frowns, but before he can say anything, I hold up a hand.

“No—Just group classes and maybe open gym.” I meet the manager’s eyes steadily, but he just smiles guilelessly, accepting my reply before looking back down at his clipboard. “Well, then that’s the tour! Here’s my card, and a schedule with our rates, and if you’re interested, just come on in.

I take the card, and when Dad and I get back out to the Falcon, he quirks an eyebrow at me.

“Seems like a nice place. Can I try it out next month? See if I like it?” And make sure there aren’t any psychos who want to turn me into a prize fighter so they can line their pockets?

Dad nods. “Sure, kid. Just don’t forget that the SAT class and the food bank are the priority. Your mom wants you focused on the stuff that’ll get you into a good school.”

+++

I’m up early for my run with Poe on Friday morning, and as always, he’s pure buoyant energy, excited for all the cookouts and parties the long weekend will have on offer. He’s in charge of his dad’s unit’s cornhole tournament tonight, and he’s trying to figure out how to get Paige Tico alone to watch fireworks after the carnival. I snort and roll my eyes at him.

“Aren’t you excited? Grilled meat, fireworks, and Rey? Or does sasquatch require more?”

“More for what?” I grunt at him. We turn the corner of the neighborhood, heading toward one of the running trails that starts behind the rec center.

“Romance?”

“Off limits, Dameron.”

Poe means well, and he’s been a good friend, but he should know better than anyone that discussing personal matters where Rey is concerned is a good way to get punched. Poe shrugs, non-plussed.

“Well, isn’t today her birthday? I remember Rose saying so. Did you get her anything?”

“She said she doesn’t need anything.” I throw up my hands as if to say I’d tried. The only thing she’s asked me for is to show her some of my boxing moves, a request she made again last night. “She’s not really big on gifts.”

“Oh my god, squatch.” Poe stops running and grabs my arm, jerking me to a stop next to him. His eyes are wide and panicked on my behalf. “You’re about to make a huge mistake, buddy. Huge. Even I know this is a world-class blunder. You cannot show up empty-handed. What is this—her sweet sixteen?”

“But…”

“No buts. You get that girl a card and some flowers.” Poe’s expression is dead serious. He’s protective of Rey--in a brotherly way, I understand now, when before I’d thought of it as maybe a crush. Poe may operate from a baseline of ridiculousness, but there’s no denying he has a good heart. “Figure it out, Solo. You can’t just keep cashing in on your pretty eyes forever.”

I shake his hand off my arm. “I wanted to take her breakfast, but she said no.”

Poe considers this, then motions for me to start running again. “Bring her some donuts. No one says no to donuts.”

As we hit the running trail, we see Finn a few yards ahead of us. Poe, as always, grins brighter upon seeing the other boy. “C’mon, Solo. Let’s catch up.”

He takes off like a shot to catch Finn, and I groan as I follow. I know they’re going to spend the whole run talking music and baseball, and while both have a secret love for N’Sync, I most assuredly do not.

+++

By the time I pull into my usual parking space in front of Rey’s trailer at half past 8 a.m., it’s already 80 degrees. It’s promising to be a ridiculously hot day. I glance sidelong at the box in the passenger seat of my Wagoneer, hoping the glaze hasn’t melted off the sixteen donuts I’ve acquired from Krispy Kreme—an assortment of raspberry and lemon-filled donuts, chocolate-glazed crullers, apple fritters, Bavarian crème and chocolate custard-filled donuts, maple glazed, and the like. There’s got to be something in there Rey will like—knowing her, all of it—and that Maz will like, too.

I’ve got a card for Rey taped to the top of the box. I decided not to get flowers—I think Rey likes food more than flowers.

Hopefully, Poe is right that donuts will be welcome.

I sigh slightly, hesitating. Rey didn’t ask me to be here this early. In fact, she said not to. I chew on my lower lip for a long moment. Why the fuck am I listening to Poe Dameron? When has he ever been right about anything involving girls? Or boys, for that matter?

I drum my hands on the steering wheel for a moment, then, courage mustered, I grab the box of donuts and head up to her front door. It’s her birthday. She deserves a fun surprise. I wonder when the last time was that anyone surprised her.

Just leaving the air-conditioned car, I can already feel the sweat trickling down my spine as I stand on her little porch, shifting the donut box into one arm so I can knock. It’s too damn hot already today.

I knock three times and wait, shifting nervously on her little porch. After a moment, I hear slow footsteps, then the safety chain being unhooked on the other side of the door, followed by the unlocking of the deadbolt and then the door itself.

And then there’s Rey, blinking her hazel eyes at me groggily, her brown hair in disarray. She’s wearing a too-big sleep shirt with a faded Garfield on the front of it--the neckline is stretched out from so many washings and wearings, it’s hanging off one narrow shoulder, and I can see her slightly knobby knees. I think she’s still half-asleep—more like three-quarters asleep--from the look of her. The creases of her pillow are still on her face, and she rubs at her eyes blearily.

I can’t help but grin at her. I’ve never seen her so rumpled, and I want to step into the doorway and scoop her up while she’s all sleepy and soft and hug her close.

It seems to take Rey a second to wake up enough for her brain to function, and then her eyes widen. In dismay.

“Ben, what are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UH OOOOOH. Could this be the start of the most disastrous birthday surprise in human history? STAY TUNED. That said, if Ben Solo showed up on my doorstep with a box of Krispy Kreme donuts, I would be delighted. 
> 
> Rey almost L-worded Ben! ALMOST! 
> 
> And Poe’s “So you’re saying there’s a chance!” is my mini-homage to Dumb and Dumber.


	28. crossroad ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Sweet sixteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For two years, I’ve lived a very fragile life where a single thread pull could unravel the thin gauze of my existence. This thread, this lie, runs through every waking moment, every interaction. It’s the one thing I must protect at all costs. If I protect the lie, I protect myself. If I protect the lie, I can protect others from trying to save me. If I protect the lie, I’ll drive everyone away. But it’s what I have to do.

Every day, I wrap myself in this frail gauze with the belief that it will protect me.

“Ben, what are you doing here?”

Ben’s face registers hurt as soon as the words slip out of my mouth. He’d looked so happy, so hopeful when I’d finally blinked through my sleepy haze to realize it was him standing in front of me, his crooked grin so earnest as he held out a Krispy Kreme box as an offering.

“I… brought donuts…?” His mouth is still moving. I think I hear the words, “for your birthday?” but there’s too much chaos suddenly tumbling through my head. I do the first thing that comes to mind. I slip in front of the door, partially closing it behind me, shielding his view of the little living room.

“Oh! That’s… that’s so sweet of you.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Ben’s hurt seems to deepen into offense, two spots of pink showing on his cheeks.

I know in my heart, my racing, terrified heart, he’s not here to just drop off donuts and leave. Not on my birthday. I can see it all over his face, the suddenly bitter press of his lips together as his jaw works. I try again, trying to sound pleased, forcing a smile onto my face, but my voice is stiff.

“Thank you, I can’t wait to eat them…” I hold my hands out to him, but he takes a step away from me.

“You’re not going to invite me in, are you?” His voice is almost awed in disbelief. I feel so rude and awful under his gaze.

“Maz isn’t ready for—”

“Fuck Maz, Rey. Jesus, you’re acting like you don’t know why your own boyfriend would show up to surprise you on your birthday.” His low voice is heated, and his eyes flash at me with a resentment I’ve never seen. I don’t know how long this has been building up in him. He’s pushed occasionally, but never aggressively. “I want to be in your life, Rey! Why can’t I eat donuts with you on your birthday? Give me one good reason!”

“Ben, I—” My voice wavers. “I wasn’t expecting you, and the house is messy…” My search for any excuse that will placate Ben and hopefully convince him to leave skitters wildly through my brain.

“I don’t care about a messy house.” He’s taking a shaky breath, as if to calm himself. He’s confused and angry now, but I see him trying to gain more command over himself. Another breath, and he closes his eyes briefly. After a moment, his eyes open, and he looks twice as frustrated as before.

“It’s hot as balls out here, Rey. I’m coming inside.” His words are a strangled growl, and I can see he is sweating just from standing out on the porch, his tee shirt growing damp and clinging to his chest limply. The weather isn’t doing anything to improve his mood, and I’m starting to panic.

With a sudden violence that makes my stomach lurch, Ben surges past me, pushing a hand against my front door to swing it open, and he strides into the trailer. He’s swearing under his breath, pissed but purposeful, and he drops the donut box on the small dinette table at the edge of the living room.

He turns around and glares at me where I’m frozen in the doorway, opening his arms wide. “Well? Did the world end? I’m in your house.”

His eyes are vaguely triumphant, as if he’s just proven something to me, but I can tell he’s still angry from the set of his shoulders, from the curl of his lips as he speaks.

My heart thrums in my chest painfully, and I grip the doorknob until I feel the bones in my hand ache. When I speak, my voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “Maz is going to wake up any minute now. She’ll be upset if you’re here. You have to go.”

I need him out of the house. Now. Before the gauze of lies covering me is torn away. “Please, Ben.”

Ben runs a hand through his hair, and I can see the indecision on his face. I know him. I know Ben doesn’t want to antagonize me, but now that he’s in here, he doesn’t seem altogether keen to be on his way.

“No. You’re going to sit down and eat with me.”

Ben crosses around the low dividing wall to the little kitchen, I suppose to find plates, and I stand awkwardly for a moment before I remember the front door is still open, letting out the costly air conditioning. I shut the door behind me, and I’m so panicked, I can feel my legs shaking.

With every second he’s inside my trailer, I know I’m in that much more trouble. I can’t even speak at this point because I don’t trust that I won’t cry or say something to make him dig in more than he already has to this ordeal. I wobble to the kitchen and watch him open a cabinet door to look for plates. He looks so large in the little kitchen, easily taller than my refrigerator, dwarfing the space with his size.

He doesn’t find plates in the first cabinet, just my little store of food. Granola bars. Canned vegetables. Packs of instant noodles. The can of powdered Gatorade mix he’d given me. I see him purse his lips, then glance at me with a frown as he closes the door. He’s about to ask me something when I see him looking at my sink and studying the contents little dish rack next to it. One fork. One bowl. One cup. One pot.

I see something cross his face, a fleeting suspicion. Ben pulls open the refrigerator to study its meager contents. Half a gallon of whole milk. A carton of eggs. Apples. A small bottle of ginger ale.

When he shuts the door, I see a new kind of tension twitch through the muscles of his shoulders. It takes a long time for him to look at me. When he speaks, it’s as if he’s making a scientific pronouncement. Data has been collected. And now a conclusion has been drawn.

“You don’t have enough food here for two people.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek and look at my hands. “Maz doesn’t eat much.” My voice is an unconvincing squeak.

Ben makes an impatient noise, and he steps past me, out of the kitchen and into the living room. I don’t know what he’s looking for, exactly. His eyes glance over the little entryway where only my battered sneakers are under the side chair, where only my backpack slumps on the floor against the coat closet. He stands still for a long moment in the center of the room, his face thoughtful, the only sound heard the steady ticking of the wall clock above the framed pictures of Maz and me through the years.

I don’t even know if I’m breathing anymore. I just feel like I’m under water.

Ben starts off down the hallway in long-legged strides, toward the bathroom and the two little bedrooms, and a jolt of panic revives me. My voice croaks after him desperately. “Ben, you can’t!”

I’m no longer frozen, and I run after him to grab his arm, but he just shakes me off, and I stumble back. My eyes burn as he glances in the open door to my little room with its rumpled bed and piles of books, then moves to the room at the end of the hall. The door is shut, but Ben doesn’t hesitate to twist the door handle and push it open.

Of course, the room is empty. Maz’s bed is stripped but for the faded red coverlet that I used to keep dust off the mattress. The shade is pulled. The closet doors are neatly shut. There are no clothes hanging over the back of her chair. There is no creased novel or reading glasses on the nightstand.

He stands in the doorway, his back to me, and I don’t know how long it is before he turns around, bewilderment wrestling with frustration across his face. The hallway suddenly seems a lot longer, and Ben may as well be at the far end of a football field.

I can feel the thread being pulled, unraveling the thin protection I’ve wrapped around myself. I may as well be naked before Ben.

“Is she dead?” His voice is ragged with the question.

I didn’t hear him come back down the hallway. I’m startled to find he’s standing in front of me, his expressive face unable to settle fully into anger or hurt or compassion. He’s all these things, and his lovely caramel-colored eyes are shimmering with emotions that are steadily becoming more turbulent.

I nod, and I look away from him.

“When?”

“Two years ago,” I say, whisper-quiet, even though the words are roaring loud in my head.

The storm breaks, and his hands close around my wrists firmly, holding them between us as if he’s afraid if he doesn’t hold onto me, I’ll run away from him. His voice is harsh, and every word scours my heart like sandpaper.

“Why didn’t you think I could handle this?”

“It’s… I’m… too much to deal with, Ben. One thing could go wrong, and my whole life disappears. Why would you want to be a part of that?” My voice is shaking, as fragile as glass. As I speak, his hands tighten on my wrists, and I wince as I realize he doesn’t know his own strength. “I never wanted to drag you down.”

I can see the struggle on his face, and my back presses against the wall, Ben holding me there, looming over me like a thundercloud. “Rey, I love you. _I love you_ , and I want to help you, and I want to be there for you, but you’ve been lying to me every single day since February. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

His voice is low and intent as he steps closer to me, squeezing my wrists harder until I whimper, trying to twist out of his grasp, “Ben, you’re hurting me.”

He looks down at his hands, stunned that he’d been clasping me that tightly, and releases me as quickly as if he’d been electrocuted. I rub my wrists reflexively, and when his eyes meet mine, his face is pale and waxy, and he takes a step back. “Oh... Rey… no. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry…”

He looks as if he might be sick, and he looks at his hands as if he doesn’t even understand what they’ve done. Ben’s shoulders slump, and I see something lost and forlorn in him as his anger deflates.

My heart aches for him, for the kind, gentle boy I know him to be, with his heroic, loyal heart, who wants to prove to me and the world how _good_ he is. And he is wonderfully good. No one but Ben has ever fought so hard to protect me, except for Maz.

“I trust you more than anyone,” I say, my voice breaking over the words, reaching for him, curling my shaking hands around his biceps in a soft touch that I hope reassures him. I want to anchor him. I need to anchor myself. “I wanted to tell you every day, but I couldn’t put that burden on you.”

He looks mournful, and then I feel his large, warm hands cupping delicately around my elbows, holding me steady, a soothing presence tethering me to the moment, when all I want to do is sink to the floor and heave panicked sobs.

“But I… I want that burden.” He groans, touching his forehead to mine. “Fuck, no, you’re not a burden. Never. Just… why would you hide something like this, Rey? It’s not safe. What would happen if you got hurt or…” Or caught. Or ran out of money. I know the risks. I live under these worries every day so much that they’re just the white noise of my existence.

“I had to hide it—Ben, you don’t understand how much I could lose. This was the only way Maz and I could figure out to keep me safe. Let me… let me explain,” I choke out, feeling some little part of me begin to crumple irreparably.

But before that can happen, as my body begins to shake from the disaster of emotions that have dictated my life for the last two years, Ben moves a comforting hand to the nape of my neck so he can guide me to the tiny, lumpy plaid couch in the living room. After settling me down into it, he tugs the old afghan from the corner and tucks it around me wordlessly. I can barely see, my vision is so blurry with unshed tears.

It’s over, I think. Ben will tell his parents, and they’ll call Child Protective Services. I’ll be taken away from the only home I’ve ever known and put into a group home and treated like a prisoner just because I’m young and everyone who would care for me is dead. I’ll be forced to attend one of the terrible county schools instead of Jakku High. I’ll never see Ben or Rose or Finn again. This little trailer and everything in it will be forfeit because the state certainly won’t pay for the tags or lot rent, and when I’m 18, I’ll be homeless.

“Please don’t tell,” I croak, unable to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to stay with me, just please, please don’t tell.”

“I’m not leaving you.” His words are rough with emotion. “Not ever.”

+++

Ben doesn’t make me explain myself to him immediately, instead coaxing me to lay down on the couch with my head in his lap. He strokes my hair until I fall asleep. He doesn’t speak, and the silence between us is loud.

I’m not sure how long I’m asleep, but when I wake up, Ben is sitting at my dinette table, talking in a low voice on his cell phone. Foggy with sleep, I’m not sure what he’s saying, but I feel a pulse of panic and jolt upright, then off the couch, my heart beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings. Ben jumps slightly at the sudden movement, and he speaks up into the phone. I can tell he’s agitated. “I’ll be on time, Mom. I promise. Yeah. 4 p.m. I get it. I’ll be there. MOM, can you lay off? Alright. Yes, I’ll tell her.”

He ends the call and looks up at me, and as he opens his mouth to speak, I cut him off. “Ben, I asked you not to tell!” I’m trying not to sound hysterical, but it’s not working, and Ben holds up his hands as if trying to calm a spooked horse, speaking calmly.

“I haven’t said a word. Mom says happy birthday. She’d asked me to call so I know what time to go to the picnic for setup. That’s all. I swear, Rey.”

I grip the back of a chair until my knuckles turn white, and I see the truth in his face, and I finally nod, exhaling a shaky breath. I finally glance at a clock and see it’s only 10 a.m. I realize I’ve got no game plan for what happens when someone figures out my secret. Ben’s watching me with that pensive expression that makes me drop my eyes to the floor. It feels like an accusation, even though I know it isn’t.

“I’ll explain now, if you want.”

+++

_“But Maz—isn’t it against the law? I can’t… do you think?”_

_“Better to be self-reliant, child. I’m sorry I don’t have friends who can take you in, and I’m sorry that we’ve run out of family. I didn’t think I’d get so old so quickly.”_

_Maz holds the little oxygen mask over her face, breathing deeply as she leans back against the pillows on her bed, as pale as the faded sheets._

_When she has breath in her again, she continues, “Social workers mean well. But there’s no guaranteeing what happens to you once they’re involved. What you want won’t matter. It’ll be about what the state decides, and the minute you’re eighteen, they will cut you loose to fend for yourself.”_

_“They can’t just take the house from me, can they?” I ask, confused. “Would they let me stay home, knowing I have a place to live? Couldn’t they just send someone to check on me once a week?” People do that with cats, and I’m more capable than a house cat, I like to think._

_“No, dear girl. You won’t be allowed to stay, and they won’t pay the lot rent to hold the place until you’re old enough to do it yourself. The house will revert to Teedo.”_

_I take Maz’s hand and lay my head in her lap, trying to ignore the thrum of panic. I’m only thirteen, and eighth grade hasn’t ended yet. Her doctor’s visit hadn’t gone well, and the timeline we’d been hoping for has grown terribly short. Less than a year. I’m not ready. I’m not ready._

_“I just want to stay here with you,” I say plaintively. “I don’t want to live with strangers.”_

_When the time came, I lied. Constantly. I told the hospital staff my mother was running errands and would be right back. I would motion to random women walking down the hallway, saying they had just been with Maz and me. I signed paperwork when nurses weren’t looking. It was easier than you’d think. No one cared about a poor old woman and the child clinging to her hand as she took her last breath. It’s another bed to empty for the next poor old woman about to die._

_The day Maz died, they covered her with a sheet, and they handed me a stack of paperwork to take home. They didn’t even say they were sorry. They were already thinking about the next patient._

_It was shocking how easy it was to disappear in plain sight. After two years of invisibility, I’m more shocked when people notice._

“I didn’t know how hard it would be, Ben. It was so lonely, but it worked. No one ever questioned it. Even Finn and Rose haven’t noticed anything wrong.”

We’d curled up on the couch, the afghan wrapped around me, as I told my story to Ben. I sniffle, rubbing at my eyes, and Ben inches closer to me so he can pull me against his chest. I lean into him, taking the comfort I’d been denying myself. His breathing is shaky, and I realize the strain he’s under, trying to stay calm for me, trying to be strong. The muscle under his left eyes is twitching.

“Ben, you’re the only one who noticed. I knew I was in trouble the first time you kissed me. I don’t think I knew how lonely I was, how much I needed you…” my voice softens, and I nestle against him, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

I feel his lips drop to the top of my head, kissing me sweetly, and I feel a tear roll down my cheek. “Can you forgive me for lying? I hated hurting you, Ben. But I’ve been so scared, and I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position.”

Ben squeezes me fiercely, his voice stumbling towards confidence from a choked beginning. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to help you. We can talk to my parents after the cookout, and they’ll—”

“No! Ben!” I jerk out of his arms, looking at him in panic. Every alarm is clanging in my head. “Didn’t you hear what I just told you? Your parents are mandatory reporters. The state will take me away. People don’t want to foster teenagers in their homes, and I’ll end up in a group facility—and there aren’t any in Jakku. I won’t get to see you. I’ll lose my house—they aren’t going to pay the lot rent while I’m in orphan jail!”

“I can’t leave you here like this! You’re starving, you’re working yourself to death, and there’s no one here for you,” Ben spits the words at me, frustrated, his temper beginning to flare again the way glowing coals brighten and flicker into flame. “Do you think I’m just going to keep pretending? It’s not okay!”

“I don’t see why anything has to change! Ben, I’ve made it this far. I’m _fine_. I just need to last two more years. I know I can do it… Money’s tight, but I’ve never been rich, anyway.”

Okay, fine is a bit of a stretch, but I am surviving all on my own, and better than some adults can manage.

“No! What if you get hurt? What if you get into trouble? You need someone who can handle things for you.” Ben clasps my arm in a tight grasp and just as quickly lets me go, not wanting to hurt me again. His voice is low and urgent. “You do realize you’re asking me to lie to my parents? Rey—do you know what I’ve gone through to earn their trust again? It would kill them if they knew I was lying to them about something so important.”

The color is high on his face, and I can see how near tears he is, that his shoulders are subtly vibrating with the roiling emotions. As always, my guilt over Ben’s concern, Ben’s frustration burns another hole in my stomach. My eyes are burning with the effort of holding back my own tears. I lift a hand to touch his cheek, fingers dancing over the freckles and moles, the constellation that is so uniquely his.

“That’s why I didn’t want you to find out.” My voice is mournful. “It was never because I didn’t trust _you_. I didn’t want to put you in that position. I know how hard you work, about the counseling—I never wanted this for you.”

“But now I have to choose between doing what you want and lying to my parents.” I can see the way his hands shake, the nearly imperceptible tremble of his lips.

“Maybe… maybe just wait. Can you wait to tell them? Ben, if I get put into state custody, I could lose _everything_.” My voice waivers. “That includes you.”

“Rey, you can’t be serious. I promise, my parents would help you—they really like you.”

Han and Leia may like me, but what are they going to do? Take me in? They’re a military couple with a teenager almost out of the house. They’ll likely PCS as soon as Ben graduates from Jakku High School. I can’t fathom that they’d want the burden of their son’s indigent girlfriend. Who would?

I grasp Ben’s hands desperately, so large in my own, and my emotions all over the place. Love. Grief. Frustration. Need. Fear. “I am serious. The best thing for me is to stay right here, in my house, in my school, with my friends, and with you. Ben, the bigger risk is telling someone my situation. If we do, the minute I turn eighteen, I’ll be on my own, with no place to live.”

I can see his resolve weakening. “Rey…”

I kiss his hands, my eyes glancing at his pleadingly. “You don’t have to do anything. We can just go on like before, and it’ll be okay. I promise. I made it this far. And… if you think it’s too much for me, you can tell your parents.”

That last bit was painful to say, but I know how afraid Ben is for me, and how loathe he is to betray his parents’ confidence any more than necessary. I don’t like lying to Han and Leia, either to be honest. They’re so good to me; in my mind’s eye I can see their smiling faces turning to horror if they knew. I don’t want to dwell on that—I’ve got enough guilt to manage.

“I can’t believe you’ve been living like this since you were _fourteen_.” Ben’s voice is morose. I feel like I’ve aged him ten years by telling him my story, he sounds so worn.

“A lot of people live alone, Ben,” I tell him, lacing my fingers through his as best I can, given how much bigger his hands are than mine.

“Yeah… they’re called _adults_ ,” he replies, his tone wry. “What happens if you got hurt? Or sick? Who would know? Who would take care of you?”

I look up, and I see such sorrow on his face, mingled with guilt and compassion. “I’ve got it better than a lot of people. I had an aunt who loved me. I have a roof over my head. And I have you. _And_ I have myself.” I touch his cheek lightly, and I smile when he turns his head to kiss the palm of my hand.

Ben sighs, a forlorn sound of resignation, and he sandwiches my hands between his. “Okay. Alright. You win. But I have some conditions.”

I crumple with relief against Ben’s shoulder. “Name your terms, Solo.”

He huffs a dry laugh, wrapping his arms around me. “You have to let me help you. Let me get you fixed up with the food bank, or at least let me bring you some groceries. Granola bars and ramen noodles are not a complete diet, Rey.”

I want to argue with him that I try to eat a vegetable every day, but I decide now is not the time. “And what else?”

“I want you to stop working at Plutt’s. If you’re going to make it another two years, you need to stay away from that place. I don’t think it’s safe.”

God, he’s like a dog with a bone about my job. It’d be less frustrating if he were wrong, however.

I can’t help but push back a little. “But where else am I going to get that kind of money? I can’t just quit—I need income.” I’d made $1600 there in the last month. I feel like Scrooge McDuck, diving into a money vault every time I think of it.

Ben harumphs. “Fine—keep the job for now and start looking for something else—even if it pays less. You need something where you’re not going to die of heatstroke. Promise me you’ll quit the moment you find another job.”

I sigh. “Okay. I promise. Is there anything else?”

“Oh, I get to keep coming up with conditions?” Ben’s grin broadens for a moment, and he brushes his fingers on the back of my neck tenderly before his face grows serious again. “Alright, this is the last one. Kind of a blanket condition… When something goes wrong, or you need help, don’t hide it. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it together. And if it’s too big, I’m going to tell my parents. You’re not alone, Rey.”

 _I’m not alone._ Not anymore. I close my eyes and press my face into the curve of his neck, a sudden burst of relief crashing through me. If Ben’s shirt collar grows damp with my tears, neither of us mention it.

+++

Ben insists on making me a birthday breakfast—well, at this rate, it’s lunch. I can’t help but grin, watching him make scrambled eggs in my tiny kitchen, looking like a giant hunched over the skillet. He even slices a couple of apples and pours us each a glass of milk. And of course, there are the donuts. Sixteen of them, in fact, which makes me laugh delightedly.

“I’ll be eating donuts for a week!”

He gives me his signature toothy, crooked smile, and I see this is the reaction he’d been hoping for when he’d shown up earlier. I press a kiss to his plush lips, and he tastes like the sweet lemon filling from one of the powdered sugar donuts.

After the seriousness of the morning, there’s a lightness between us now. I insist on washing the plates from our meal despite Ben’s protests that I shouldn’t have to, but I just flick water at his face. Instead, he crowds against me, leaning over me as I scrub, using his long arms to get in the way. I smack his hands, and he just moves them to grasp my hips, pulling me snugly into his body.

“You’re going to make me drop a plate,” I scold him, but he just shrugs, holding onto me while I finish with the dishes and set them in the drying rack. Two plates. Two forks. I can’t help but smile to myself.

And when I turn around, he’s cupping his hands on my rear, and I can feel the strength of his fingers through my old sleep shirt. His hands squeeze there, then slide to my hips, then my waist, in a gentle exploration, causing my breath to catch. He’s looking down at me with an admiring glance, as if my hair isn’t bedraggled, as if I’m wearing something infinitely more flattering than my terrible, old Garfield sleep shirt.

“What?” I ask him, curling my arms around his waist, looking up at him.

“I love seeing you like this,” he says, letting his hands slide to caress my ribcage, brushing his thumbs against the sides of my breasts. “You looked so soft and sleepy when you opened the door this morning. I wanted to kiss you so badly.”

I laugh. “I’m such a mess! I can’t believe you haven’t run away in horror.”

Ben shakes his head, then drops his head to pull me into a warm kiss. “You’re different here. With no secrets between us.”

He cups my face in his hands, brushing the flat of his thumb over my lower lip, and I see such an open, unguarded light in his eyes, that I kiss his thumb, my heart fluttering. I reach up to touch his face in a similar caress, admiring the planes of his face, the awkward angles, the large nose and ears, the wickedly soft lips. No face could be more handsome to me, and I have the suspicion he’ll age into these features in a way that’ll make people’s heads turn. But my head is already turned by Ben’s beauty.

“Ben?” My voice is soft, and his eyes watch my face with interest. “Be with me?”

His eyes widen momentarily, and I see a blush rise on his face. The tips of his ears grow pink, too.

“You mean…” his voice his hesitant, and he seems to shift on his feet, and I feel his hands twitch almost imperceptibly where they hold me.

I blush as I reply. “Yes.”

+++

“How can you sleep like this?” Ben asks, staring at my bed. After I’d slipped away to brush my teeth and attend to other needs, I’d returned to take him by the hand and pull him into my little bedroom. It was tidy enough but cluttered with books.

I’m perplexed by his question, and after a moment, I realize he’s talking about my small mountain of pillows. I laugh, and I lean over to pull most of the pillows off the bed, tossing them on the floor, because there’s no way Ben will fit in my narrow twin bed with so much competition. “I, um, it makes me feel more… I don’t know, I feel more secure with all the pillows. I like to snuggle, I guess…” I say, feeling the heat rise on my face.

Ben takes a seat on the bed, and he reaches for my hands to pull me, standing, between his knees. He looks up at me with that warm, boyish smile on his face. “I’ll snuggle with you. I’ll wrap you up in my arms, and you won’t need three hundred pillows anymore.”

“Six pillows!” I protest, putting my hands on his shoulders and leaning in for a brief kiss. The way our lips meet is tentative, practically chaste. After so many weeks of impassioned petting and amorous make-out sessions, it’s funny to think that I feel so shy. And from the way Ben keeps touching his hair, and his knee bounces, I know he’s nervous.

“You only have one head, Rey,” he says with a teasing smile. “So that’s five pillows too many.”

Ben must be finding his confidence, because his hands skirt under my sleep shirt, smoothing over my legs until he’s holding onto my hips again. I feel the press of his fingers, and he curls them into the waistband of my decidedly unsexy cotton panties, pulling them downward until they puddle at my feet, and I step out of them. As he reaches for the hem of my sleep shirt, I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“No, you…” My hands pluck at the sleeves of his tee shirt, hinting at what I want, and his eyes crinkle as he complies, peeling off his shirt in a smooth motion. I’ve seen Ben without his shirt before, but this feels so different. Maybe it’s that it’s the two of us, alone in my room, with the muted sunlight streaming through my window shade, maybe it’s that there aren’t anymore secrets between us. His shoulders are broad, and his arms are thick with muscle. When he stands abruptly, I can see the flat, muscled plane of his stomach. Ben may seem like a brooding, gangly boy, hiding under baggy tee shirts and too much hair, but his body is ridiculously sculpted.

He curls his hand around the back of my neck as he pulls me in for a tender kiss, and I eagerly put my hands on him to feel the warmth of his skin, the solid muscles, dancing my fingertips up his spine, making him shiver. As his lips nuzzle and nip at mine, my hands find their way to the front of his shorts, and I unbutton and unzip them and begin to push them down his hips, along with his boxers, until they drop to the floor. His hands join mine, and soon he’s stepping out of them and completely bare before me. Now this—this is new, and we both flush, and he’s smiling sheepishly because his member is already standing at attention. I gulp a little because he’s _large_. Somehow that’s going to have to… I lose track of the thought when Ben speaks.

“Your turn.” He grasps my sleep shirt and tugs it upward, and I lift my arms so he can pull it up and off, before tossing it aside. I’m now as bare as he is, and I feel my nipples pebble in response to the air conditioning. Ben’s gaze is heated as he looks over my body, and an admiring expression crosses his face. It doesn’t take long for our hands to reach out, pulling ourselves close to one another, reveling in the warm press of skin, his erection hard against my belly.

His hands slide down to squeeze my backside, kneading playfully as he kisses my temple his lips drag down to the curve of my neck. I exhale a little sound of pleasure and rub against him, letting my fingers run up to his shoulders, exploring the sinews. I press soft kisses to his chest and shoulders, and ever so slowly, we ease onto my narrow bed together.

We take our time—for once, there’s no worry of his parents catching us, or his curfew. It’s not the excited groping of the backseat of his Wagoneer or the riverbank. Ben and I kiss breathlessly, unable to keep from smiling as we caress and explore each other’s bodies leisurely with gentle touches until I feel warm and pliant under him. Every care seems to fade away when Ben caresses me and lavishes his soft lips across my chest. He palms my breast, easily covering it with one huge hand, and dropping his mouth to lap at the other with his warm tongue, making me shiver.

I press my fingertips into the firm muscles of his ass, and he groans, rutting his hard cock against my leg. His teeth graze the soft underside of my breast, making me gasp, and encouraged, he nips from there to the other breast.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, flicking his tongue over a hard nipple before mouthing my small breast, suckling gently at first, then somehow wetly pulling the whole thing into his mouth. He lets it go with a wet pop, and as good as it feels, neither of us can help but laugh. I nip at one of his big ears, and he responds by doing the same to my other breast.

“Ah!” My voice is somewhere between a whimper and a giggle, and I wriggle slightly, half-pinned as I am under his heavy body. I slip a hand between us, seeking his rigid cock, and I curl my fingers around it in a teasing caress. Ben groans, burying his face in the little hollow between my breasts as he instinctively thrusts in my grip.

“Don’t… not if you want this over quickly…” he sighs, and I pull my hand away. He grins up at me, kisses my collarbone, then begins to press warm, wet kisses down my body, nipping at my navel, then further down, kissing in the flat span between my hipbones, above the small triangle of curls at the apex of my thighs. Ben glances up at me to check in, and I nod shyly, and he continues until his face is nuzzled between my thighs, kissing the soft skin there, and I feel warm tendrils of need curl inside my belly.

His thick fingers curl under my thighs, and he kisses his way to my center, and he presses a long kiss there before giving a tentative lick. We haven’t—he hasn’t—tried his before, and I reach down to caress my fingers through his hair as he flickers his tongue over my delicate folds, making me shiver. He’s kissing and licking in an exploratory fashion, testing to see what pleases me—which is just about everything, apparently, when he locates the little nub at the crest, and laps at it slowly. It’s electric, and I gasp, arching slightly.

“Feels good,” I whimper, my toes curling.

Ben takes that as his cue, and he circles it lazily with his tongue, sending delicious sparks flying through my body, and I feel his hands kneading the backs of my thighs like a cat. I’m growing so wet from his ministrations that I can hear what he’s doing, and if it weren’t currently turning me into a writhing mess, I might be embarrassed. He kisses my thighs again, this time scraping his teeth over the tender skin, giving me a jolt that makes me gasp, then he slides up, kissing his way to my breasts as a hand slips to where his tongue had just been.

A thick finger traces between my folds, gathering the wet arousal, and he circles my sensitive clit a few times before gently sliding down and pushing his finger into me, causing me to whimper. I’d be embarrassed if I weren’t so aroused. Ben’s eyes, ordinarily such a clear whiskey color, seem smokier, warmer, filled with something hazy.

“You’re so tight,” he marvels, moving to kiss under my jaw, then nibbling his way down to my shoulder, where he mouths at my skin. His finger moves within me slowly, and I feel my tight inner muscles clench against the intrusion before eventually softening and fluttering around him. It doesn’t take long, and he slides a second finger into me, which is more of a challenge for my body to take, and I splay my legs further, gasping at the stretch. And when his thumb finds the hood of my clit, and he begins to circle, I am lost.

My hands grasp his shoulders as I cry out his name, hips grinding down into his hand as his deft fingers coax me over the edge. I throw my head back in a wordless cry, a violent shudder wrecking through my body. Somewhere above me, somewhere in the corner of what’s left of my perception, I feel Ben bite my shoulder lightly, and I can sense he’s pleased with himself for reducing me to a shivering mess.

His bites turn into kisses, and when he pulls his fingers from me, I am still hazy with aftershocks when he carefully settles his hips between my thighs. I may feel wrung out after my orgasm, but I touch him eagerly, letting my fingertips skim and kiss over his warm, slightly sweaty skin. Every brush of his skin against mine makes me want more of him. I shift slightly, enjoying the way my body feels underneath his, though he’s careful to keep his weight on his forearms.

I smile as Ben’s lips find his way to mine, and we kiss lavishly, luxuriating in the warm, wet slide of our tongues together. We kiss eagerly, passionately, and Ben begins to rock his erection against my core, slicking himself with my wetness, and we both groan from the glorious torture of the friction. When the head of his thick cock knocks against my clit, a shaky gasp escapes my lips.

I feel him reach down between us to guide himself to my wet opening, and the thick head nudges intimately against me. He nuzzles my neck, his voice a low groan, “Are you ready?”

“I am if you are,” I whisper back, kissing the side of his face, licking and nipping at his earlobe.

Ben huffs a laugh, kissing my neck. “You have no idea.”

He buries his face in the curve of my shoulder, and he presses forward, pushing himself into me slowly. If Ben had looked large before, the physical reality of him is an entirely different experience. My breath catches, and I close my eyes, pawing at his back. It doesn’t hurt, but my inner muscles are groaning with the effort of accepting him, and I’m grateful for how wet his diligent tongue and fingers have made me.

Ben pauses to kiss me, bringing his hand up to stroke the side of my face, and I nuzzle my lips against his. I lift my legs slightly, shifting the angle, and he pushes again, sliding in a few more inches, and I’m grateful he’s so cautious. He ghosts a kiss across my lips, and with another push of his hips, he slides completely into me. I shiver underneath him, heart racing, and I gently slide my hands up and down his back, and as good as it feels, when our eyes meet, we give each other giddy smiles.

“Rey…” My name is a sigh on his lips as he pauses, hovering above me. Our hips are pushed so tight together that I can hardly tell where he begins and I end. I’ve never felt so wonderfully full, so gloriously stretched. There is a slight ache between my legs as my tight inner muscles clench and strain around his thick length, and I tentatively shift my thighs around his hips, adjusting to the feel of him.

Ben touches his lips to mine, featherlight, with a wondrous sweetness that makes my heart melt further. There’s only this moment between us, this gentle, sensuous dream state, and I arch languorously beneath him, letting my toes trace over his calves.

“I can’t believe I’m inside you…” he whispers, his lips traveling to my cheek and my neck, and he presses his face against the curve of my neck, his breathe warm on my skin. He’s beginning to shake, and I slip my arms around his waist, pulling him into me, letting him settle his weight on me.

I don’t know for how many heartbeats that we lay together, our limbs twining like young, green vines. We are reveling in the enticing press of our bodies, the electricity that passes from my skin to his and back again as we touch. My fingers stroke over the sinewy muscles of his back, and I feel Ben shift, rocking against me slightly in such a way that I exhale a sharp gasp from the friction of his pelvis against my sensitive clit.

“Is that okay?” he asks, kissing my shoulder, and I press my fingers into his flesh.

“Mmm, yes.” I touch my lips to his cheek, then to his earlobe, nipping lightly. Ben feels so good on top of me, inside me, and I feel myself growing softer and wetter as I relax into his touch.

“I need… I need to move…” he murmurs, grazing his teeth over my shoulder where he’d been kissing before. “I don’t know how long I’ll last.”

“You can move… I’m ready…” I say softly, stroking my hands over his back, nudging my nose and lips against his cheek until he turns and kisses me, his tongue darting against my lips until I open my mouth to him. Ben adjusts himself, lifting himself off me to rest on his forearms. He caresses my face, and I feel him pull back his hips, his thick cock dragging through my tight muscles. I am holding my breath, and when he pushes back into me in a slow, clumsy thrust, we both cry out in pleasure. The slide of him, the friction, is so delicious my eyes flutter closed. I hadn’t imagined it would feel this good. I hadn’t dared.

“Good?” he asks, his voice wavering. I can sense he’s holding back, not wanting to hurt me, but practically vibrating with desire. I nod, slipping a hand down to the swell of his ass and squeezing firmly to reassure him.

“So good, Ben… do it again.” When I feel him hesitate, I whisper again, “Please.”

He kisses me with warmth, and his wonderful, crookedly handsome face is somewhere between bliss and the deepest concentration as he begins to thrust. I can feel the flex of his hips and the way his arms tense so he doesn’t crash into me. Ben’s movements are uneven at first, but we soon find a rhythm that makes us gasp and pant, and my hips move to meet his.

Ben slips a big hand underneath me, cupping my ass and pulling my hips tighter against his as he pumps a little harder, and I feel a rising tension deep inside my core, a coiling electricity that’s building with every movement we make together. I whimper needily and shift my legs higher, curling my ankles together around his waist, and he is able to push into me more deeply, making us both moan.

“I’m close,” Ben groans, dropping onto his elbows and touching his forehead to mine briefly. He kisses me lavishly and he quickens his pace, thrusting faster, his movements rougher and more uncontrolled, and I feel myself crest over the edge, my inner muscles convulsing around his cock, my body wracked with a fierce spasm. My hands clutch at his shoulders and one curls into his hair, and I gasp his name loudly.

“Ben!”

Ben’s whole body seems to shudder violently in response, and I feel him surge and twitch between my thighs as he comes inside me, the warmth filling me, exhaling something somewhere between a grunt and a moan. His hips slow, and as he gasps for air, he pumps into me with a few stuttering thrusts before collapsing on me heavily and peppering kisses over my face.

I lower my legs and hold him close, breathing hard underneath him, only able to take a full breath when he gently eases out of me and shifts to my side. His arm snakes around my waist and pulls me close, not that there’s anywhere for me to go on my tiny twin bed.

He exhales a long breath, his jaw slack, and his voice sounds slightly dazed. “Wow.”

I giggle, kissing his cheek. “I love you.” It feels so easy, so right to say. Nothing has ever felt truer.

Ben grins back, his handsomely crooked face lighting up with a joy that could melt the heavens. “I know.”

Typical Ben. I smack his arm, and he laughs happily.

We lay there for a long moment, trying to catch our breath, nestled in each other’s arms. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so blissful, even with the sticky mess between my legs. His large, beautiful hands hold me tenderly, and we kiss sweetly, all smiles. I trace his dimples with my fingertips and kiss each.

As he holds me close to his chest, Ben’s voice is rumbly in my ear, and I can hear the note of amusement. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

When our eyes meet, we both shake with uncontrolled laughter, and when we finally collect ourselves, I can’t help but kiss him fiercely. Ben may have unraveled the frail thread holding together my secrets, but in his arms, I feel safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about splitting this into two chapters because it’s so long, but I decided to keep it in one piece. I hope you enjoy this 8k word chapter!
> 
> Sorry. I made you wait 28 chapters for sex. I’m a MONSTER. The tags say “Slow Burn” but perhaps I should adjust that to say “Glacial Burn” or some such. 
> 
> PCS: Permanent Change of Station. In other words, relocate to another military post.
> 
> Ben’s cell phone—I see Ben carrying a little Nokia phone, which is what all my classmates carried in the year of our lord, 1998. See the Nokia 5110 here: https://www.webdesignerdepot.com/2009/05/the-evolution-of-cell-phone-design-between-1983-2009/
> 
> Prior to 2017, foster care ended at age 18 in North Carolina. There was no “soft-landing” program that extended to the age of 21, providing funding for housing and education. Kids who age out of foster care are more likely to experience homelessness, joblessness, not finish high school, have an early pregnancy, and myriad other problems. No matter the good intentions of the state or the individuals involve, the transition from being a foster child to a legal adult can be a rocky one. Rey’s fears are not unfounded.
> 
> I’m @junkyardjeditr1 on Twitter. Feel free to holla.


	29. hov lane ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. 4th of July weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dad was right. My feelings are more intense now. I can still sense the feel of her under my hands, the taste of her in my mouth, and the warm rhythm of her heartbeat when we're pressed together. Right now, I can see Rey across the grassy field, setting chairs up under a tent lined with tables. She glances back at me from time to time, smiling shyly, then getting back to her task, and I just want to run over there and squeeze her, kiss her, bite her, lay her on a table and—

“Ben!”

Mom’s standing in front of me, her hands on her hips. “Are you going to set up the tiki torches? Or are you going to make googly eyes at Rey all afternoon?”

I glare indignantly at my mother and scoop an armful of torches up and heat to the perimeter of the cookout area to start staking the torches into the ground. I still sneak glances over my shoulder at Rey, trying to catch glimpses of her slim form amongst the stacks of chairs. And apparently, I’m not the only one interested in her. There are at least two young soldiers, probably Privates unlucky enough to be stuck on a detail rather than enjoying their four-day weekend, chatting with Rey and standing far too close to her as she straightens the chairs under the tables. She’s laughing at whatever they’re saying to her, and one guy touches her arm, and—

“Ben!”

I jerk back to glare at my dad this time. “What?”

“Give me the damn tiki torches. Why don’t you go get that girly of yours and load the coolers with drinks?”

I shove the tiki torches into my dad’s arms. It’s a better idea, anyway. I can stay close to Rey, and maybe I won’t have to punch any of those pimply-faced Privates for flirting with her. I don’t particularly enjoy it when my dad is right, but he called it. I hope this surge of feeling gets easier, because right now, all I want to do is keep her in my arms and fight anyone who even looks at her. At the rate I’m going, I’m either going to lose my mind or end up in jail for assault.

When I’ve got Rey by the hand, having shot both Privates a nasty look, we head to the drink station at the end of the long buffet table. Rey squeezes my hand to get my attention.

“What was that about?”

I redden. “They were flirting with you.”

She grins at me, cheekily. “And you were jealous? Ben!”

I grumble, shrugging. “I didn’t like the way they were looking at you. We should have just stayed at your house.”

I should have risked my mother’s wrath for another few hours in Rey’s bed. We’d napped in a sweaty tangle of limbs after the first time, and after waking up, Rey had brought donuts back to bed. She’d licked the sticky glaze from my fingertips, and I’d licked the dusting of powdered sugar from hers. It hadn’t taken much encouragement for me to growl playfully and roll her onto her back, licking and nipping at her throat as she laughed.

She’d kissed me, her tongue tasting my lips, sighing something about maple glaze. And when I’d pushed into her again, her hands had clasped my shoulders tightly as she buried her face in the curve of my neck. I can still hear her sweet sounds, those panting breaths, as I thrust into her vigorously, blissed out on how tight and wet and soft she is, until I came in her again with a shout.

Yep. Should have stayed in bed with Rey.

But we’re here now, and Rey looks as pretty as ever, in a plain, white sleeveless top and khaki shorts. Mom had looped some festive red and blue party beads around our necks when we’d arrived.

“What’d you two get up to today?” she’d asked, absently, motioning for the event detail to move tables, chairs, and tents to her liking. Huge grills had been rolled to the edge of the field, and there is even a bandstand for live music and later a DJ. Apparently, mom was going big for this event.

Rey and I had blushed, glad for once that my mom was distracted and didn’t notice the squeak of Rey’s voice. “Oh, um, we just hung out. Ben brought donuts for breakfast.”

She’s looking down at a clipboard as she replies. “Hope you didn’t ruin your appetites. You! You there!” And my mom is off and shouting, chasing down some confused Private who is headed in the wrong direction with one of the tents.

It’s a fun cookout. Rey consumes a terrifying amount of food, as she had promised earlier this week. When she’s done devouring two hamburgers, a hot dog, chips, beans, potato salad, coleslaw, and a slice of cake, she convinces me to dance with her when the band starts playing, even though I am the world’s most awkward dancer. At least it’s better than when she convinced me to try roller skating. I’m still all elbows and jerky movements, but Rey doesn’t seem to notice. She just smiles at me, all dimples, wriggling along to the music arrhythmically and letting me twirl her occasionally, and if we catch my parents snorting behind bottles of beer from a far table, it certainly doesn’t seem to bother Rey one bit.

The only thing that makes Rey falter is when my dad takes a seat in a lawn chair next to where we’ve settled down to watch my mom compete in a horseshoe tournament.

“Hey there, kiddos,” he says amiably. “Having fun?”

I grunt in assent, but Rey smiles up at him. “Lots of fun. Thanks for letting Ben bring me.”

Dad snorts. “If you think Ben would have come to this cookout without you, you’re crazy. And how’d you get him to dance, anyway? I would have thought it would take a threat of violence or blackmail.”

I glare at my dad, but Rey just laughs brightly. “How did you guess? I’m blackmailing Ben. He has deep, dark secrets, and he’ll do whatever I say to keep them that way.”

I roll my eyes at her joke and bump her shoulder. Dad just eyes us speculatively. “Sure it’s not the other way? Ben’s not keeping your secrets?”

Rey freezes, and her mouth hangs open. I think I hear the precise moment her heart drops into her stomach.

“Rey doesn’t have any secrets!” I blurt out.

“Kid, you can’t fool me.” He looks smug as he sips his beer. “Rey, I saw you joyriding in your aunt’s car the other day. I expected that from this knucklehead, but I never thought you’d do anything that crazy.”

Rey’s mouth opens and closes, and I know she’s reeling between relief and panic. Relief that it isn’t the other secret he’s onto, and a flicker of panic at being caught out for her clandestine driving habits. “Oh, no, you must be mistak—”

He rolls his eyes. “No, I’m not. What are you doing out there? You know you could find yourself in some seriously hot water if you get pulled over. Now, I’m not gonna call your aunt or anything, but if I hear about you driving without a license again, kiddo, my hands are tied.”

“Dad, leave her alone!” I grump, reaching to take Rey’s hand. I can sense she wants to bolt, but I squeeze her hand to calm her. “Don’t pick on her on her birthday.”

“Fine, fine. And happy birthday, Rey.” He gives her a grin. “Sixteen is old enough for a driver’s license. You should get one.”

+++

“Yeah, she liked the donuts,” I tell Poe as we leave the running trail, our pace slowing. Just a short run this morning since the day is going to be a long one.

“See? I’m a genius. You should start listening to me more often,” he boasts.

“Is that why you’re always asking me for relationship advice?”

Poe holds his hands up. “I’ve decided to stop doing that. You’re hopeless, sasquatch.”

I’m doing better than he might assume, so I just give a casual shrug. “So you’re full of confidence that you can woo Paige Tico, then? Do you think she’ll declare her love for you under the fireworks?”

“I told you. Fried. Dough. I’m going to buy that girl a funnel cake at the carnival.” Poe looks inordinately pleased with himself, and I just roll my eyes and snort.

We jog back toward the housing areas of post, and we go our separate ways. When I step into my house, I can hear my parents in the kitchen.

“Ben! Waffles!” my dad shouts, and I can’t turn down an offer like that. I jog into the kitchen, dripping sweat, and my mom’s nose wrinkles when she glances above the edge of her newspaper.

“I am cursed to be surrounded by sweaty men every day of my life,” she mutters, her tone affectionate, regardless.

“You’re the one who joined the Army,” I say with a broad grin, pausing by her chair at the breakfast table to give her a hug, relishing her groan of distress as she makes contact with my soggy shirt and I drip sweat on her.

“Simultaneously the best and worst thing I ever did,” she agrees, shoving me away from her playfully. “Wash your hands and sit down. You know waffle day is sacred in this house.”

Mom gets the first waffle because Dad says he’s afraid of what will happen if she doesn’t, so I wait my turn while chugging a cup of coffee and snagging the comics page from Mom’s side of the table.

Dad glances over his shoulder at me. “Well, you’re in a good mood. You have a good day with Rey yesterday?”

I shrug slightly, trying to look nonchalant. Yesterday couldn’t possibly be defined as good. Or bad. It was its own creature with its bitter, sad beginning and its blissful end. And as of this moment, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.

“Yeah, pretty good. Looking forward to tonight—you don’t mind if I stay out late, do you? I think everyone’s going to hang out after the fireworks are over.”

“How late?” Mom asks, folding the front page section of the paper and setting it down to smile beatifically at the waffle my dad has just placed in front of her before smearing butter and syrup across it.

“I dunno. Late late. I’ll have my phone with me.”

“Just stay outta trouble, kid.” Dad’s pouring more batter into the waffle maker. “And don’t get anyone pregnant.”

“Dad!” I thought my parents were finally going to let go of this subject. Of course, my dad just laughs, no matter how I glare at him, incensed. It doesn’t matter what he says about me, but I don’t like for him to drag Rey into the teasing.

“What, you want me to be more specific?” he says with a smirk.

“Han, can you leave him alone?” Mom’s tone is scolding, but she’s also trying not to laugh.

“Boundaries. Remember?” I snark, getting up to get myself another cup of coffee.

Mom and Dad look appropriately chagrined at that reminder. I may have been the one to walk out of counseling with another workbook, but they’d also been reminded to rein themselves in a little more, instead of trampling over my personal life like it was their own personal entertainment. Not that they were, really… just… what I have with Rey makes me feral with anxiety and happiness and protectiveness.

“Our apologies, Benny. You’re right. Are you working today before meeting your friends tonight?” Mom asks.

“No, I’m gonna go get Rey. Thought we could hang out today and do nothing. Maybe go to the pool for a bit.”

“And you went over there with donuts yesterday? Did you meet Maz?” Dad cuts in, putting my waffle in front of me. It smells amazing, and I eagerly drown it in syrup.

Mom freezes across the table, suddenly riveted with interest. Her eyes light up. “Yes, did you?”

I shove a huge wedge of waffle in my mouth and nod. “Mmmhmm.”

I feel a sliver of regret pierce my conscience at betraying my parents’ trust, my promise to always come to them with serious problems, but I’d promised Rey that I’d _wait_. I like to think that one day, my parents will forgive me this lie. They’re still looking at me expectantly, so after I chew and swallow, I shrug. “Yeah. She’s… she’s an old lady. Nice enough. Likes crullers.”

+++

“I hated leaving you here last night,” I whisper to Rey, kissing the side of her neck as we curl together in her little bed. “I don’t like you being alone.”

My feet hang over the foot of the bed, and my arm is slung across her narrow waist. The moment she’d opened her front door, I had scooped her into my arms, and she’d laughed as I carried her into her room and dropped her on the bed. We’d made quick work of our clothes, dumping them on her bedroom floor before becoming a sweaty tangle of limbs. I’d licked at her core and stroked my fingers into her until she was pink-faced and gasping with pleasure, then pressed my cock into with slow thrusts. I enjoy the way she arches under me, her hips canting upward.

“Aw, Ben. I promise I’m fine,” she whispers back, turning to face me. She weaves her little fingers through mine and gives me a tender kiss. “And I have you, anyway.”

She does. It still felt hateful, however, kissing her on her front porch and leaving her alone in this ramshackle trailer. Now I understand all the times it felt so strange and lonely when I was leaving her behind. I feel like I’ve always known on some level, but it seemed so preposterous I could never admit it to myself.

“Hmm. I think I have you,” I tell her, hitching her leg over my hip and rolling on top of her so she’s pinned beneath me. My eyes glint at her, and I can’t hold back my teasing smile.

Rey pushes at my shoulders lightly and wriggles, but it’s clear she’s not going anywhere, and she laughs. “Not fair. You must weigh a hundred pounds more than me!”

“You need to get buff, Sands. Put some muscle on. Throw a chainsaw at somebody.” I poke at her bony shoulders and ribs teasingly, and she squeaks indignantly, even though she can’t help but laugh. It’s such a happy, easy sound, and I kiss along her jaw.

“Well, if you’d teach me to box, I might give you a run for your money!” I like the sound of that challenge.

“You still want to learn? It’s hard work, sweetheart.”

“When have I ever been afraid of that?” She lifts her chin defiantly, and I see a fire in her eyes, igniting the golden green. I see the fierceness and tenacity that’s allowed her to survive this long. The blaze that has kept her working when exhausted, enduring when sad, and thriving in between.

“Never.”

+++

Rey sprawls next to Rose and Paige on the blanket, their heads bent together, whispering about whatever it is girls whisper about. I’m desperate to know and equally certain I don’t want to know. At one point, Paige looks between Rey and me with a speculative glance, grins slyly, then turns back to the conversation.

I flush a little and turn my attention to my Coke, listening to Poe and Finn’s banter. I’ve been trying not to be obvious about… things… but it’s hard when I have this constant urge to touch her. Through rounds of carnival games, bags of cotton candy, and some stomach-churning rides, I’ve tried my best to keep my hands to myself, but sometimes I fail spectacularly and find myself wrapping my arms around her waist as we wait in lines. Rey hasn’t resisted, and she usually just smiles up at me or squeezes me back.

Gwen and Kaydel wander up dragging lawn chairs and set up near us, grinning and offering bags of chips, which Rey eagerly accepts. They’ve kept to themselves so far this summer, and everyone’s glad to see them.

Poe and Finn flank me in the lawn chairs we’d dragged along with us to the field where we’d set up to watch the fireworks. Poe’s not sure his seduction via funnel cake has worked, on account that the only reaction he’d had from Paige was a kiss on the cheek and being told he was “sweet.” Finn and I had given him conciliatory pats on the back for this doomed endeavor.

Still, he is buoyant. “I tried, guys. Summer’s not over, yet!”

Finn laughs, leaning his face into his hands. “Dude, it’s not going to happen. But have fun trying.”

Poe kicks the leg of Finn’s chair in retaliation. “You’ll see. If you two laser brains can get girlfriends, it can’t be that hard.”

I snort. “It’s not hard, provided the girl actually likes you back.”

I can’t help but glance at Rey, wondering again how someone as pretty and kind-hearted could love me—overly tall grump that I am with monstrous ears and too much nose and mouth on my face. Best not to question it, I suppose. I try not to grin. The last two days have been unreal. At least today has been easier—I don’t feel like punching people who stand too close to Rey. Not all of them, anyway.

“Yeah, man, we know.” Poe’s watching me watch Rey, and he laughs. “It’s an X-File.”

Finn snorts. “I would have never predicted it, Squatch. Not in a million years. She’s…” He pauses, thinking, then he stares between the two of us, and something in his face shifts, as if he’s had a sudden realization. He smiles at me with a sudden sincerity I find surprising. “Well, she was kind of reserved when Rose and I first met her, but always helpful. She seemed to care so much how we were getting along at Jakku. And then when she knew us better, we could see she’s funny and smart… and loyal, too.”

Poe cuts in, his words more thoughtful than usual. “Like you, Solo. She’s a lot like you.”

“I’m not as nice as she is,” I say with a laugh, embarrassed a little at Finn and Poe’s impromptu analysis. “How did all of you meet, anyway?”

“Our homeroom teacher insisted on alphabetical seating. Rose and I already knew each other from meeting at the pool last summer. But we met Rey on the first day. Sands, Storm, and Tico—fated to always sit near each other in class.”

Poe grins. “And Rey was my lab partner in Physical Science in 9th grade, and Finn, Rose, and I were on the Yearbook staff this year. You’re lucky you figured out who the cool kids were.”

I roll my eyes at that, but at the same time I feel wish I were a year younger. Solo would fit right in, between Sands and Storm in homeroom. My heart gives a weird pulse at that thought, that I’m going to finish high school a year ahead of Rey. Next fall, I’ll be heading off to college, and Rey will still be here in Jakku. Alone. I crumple my Coke can and go rummage in the cooler for another, saving that worry for another day. What I have with Rey is so precious and fragile, and I just want it to grow strong.

When the national anthem plays, signaling the fireworks are soon to begin, we all stand attention, all of us Army brats. Rey stands close to me, her hand slipping into mine as the first colorful explosions light up the sky in swathes of glittering blue, green, white, red, and every other color. The bursts keep going, and we all sink together in a huddle on the blanket, captivated. Rey curls up against my side, and I hold her closer, her small body so familiar now in how it maps against mine, and I desperately wish this moment would last forever, instead of disappearing in a sparkling flash.

+++

Rey pops by my house around noon. She’d spent the night with Rose and Paige, and the last stop on our weekend agenda is Dad’s veterans’ cookout.

“You really sure you want to go to this?” I ask her, letting her into the foyer and taking her bookbag from her and setting it aside.

“Well, yeah! You said they’d have all the old tanks and stuff on display. That’s kind of neat, right?” She smiles broadly, glancing around me to see if the coast is clear, then eagerly slips her arms around my neck, pulling me close for a long kiss.

“I missed you,” she whispers, finally letting me go, brushing delicate fingers along my jaw.

“Didn’t you have fun with Rose and Paige?”

The evening had wrapped up sooner that I’d thought. We’d all taken over one of the old gazebos by the playground and passed around a couple of flasks of whiskey that Finn and Poe had nipped from their fathers’ holdings. When everyone was pleasantly loose-limbed, we all shuffled our separate ways—Rey with Rose and Paige to the Tico house.

“Of course! Rose didn’t force me to have a makeover this time. We mostly just went to sleep, and then we goofed around this morning. I think Paige can tell we’re, mmm, closer now.” Rey bites her lip and looks up at me, restraining a grin. “I don’t think she’s told Rose her suspicions.”

I guess it makes sense. Paige is a little older, a little more worldly after a year of freedom in college.

“Well, it’s nobody’s business, anyway, except our own.” I’m about to kiss her again when my parents come barreling down the stairs, looking at their watches, hair slightly mussed. Rey’s eyes widen, and I think they… ugh. My mind isn’t going there. Absolutely not.

“You kids ready to go yet? We’re gonna be late!” Dad shouts.

+++

Rey’s fascinated with the display tanks, and she circles them, her intelligent eyes taking in the details of the treads, the different models from different eras, as well as the sheer size of them. I follow her around. I’ve seen these my whole life—every post has old war machines on display, whether at the front entrance or as part of a show display by the Fort Windu museum.

“My dad was Cavalry,” she tells me, stepping close and looking up at a turret. “I don’t know what he did, exactly, but Maz said he was a tank guy.”

“That explains your size.” I take a glance at her and nod. Makes sense.

“What do you mean?” She gives me a quizzical glance.

“Tankers tend to be wiry. There’s not a lot of room inside. So if your dad was a tanker, he probably wasn’t huge. A big guy in a tank doesn’t work so great.”

“So that leaves you out.” She grins up at me.

I shrug. “Guess so.”

“Do you think you’ll join up someday?” She’s on the move again, moving to one of the older WWII tanks, studying it closely.

I do hate this question. My parents’ friends always ask me. But I suppose the difference is that they ask _when_ I’ll join. Not _if_. Rey doesn’t assume it’s a given.

“No. It’s not what I want. Like… I hated my parents leaving me all the time. I hated that they weren’t safe. I hate how we’ve PCSed so many times. I couldn’t turn around and do that to my family.” I couldn’t do that to _you_ , I think. I couldn’t possibly leave Rey wondering and worried for months on end.

Rey muses aloud, her voice soft, “I never really thought about joining. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in Jakku, but I don’t know that this would be the right path for me, either. Maybe if there were some grand cause, I guess.” She smiles wryly and takes my hand.

Rey would want to save the world. I open my mouth to say something, but I hear my dad’s voice shouting.

“Benny! Come over here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

When Rey and I get to where my dad is standing, I see there’s an alarmingly tall man standing next to him. Even taller than me, and broad and kind of hairy with long, graying hair to his shoulders and a huge, bushy beard.

Dad’s grinning so broadly, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so thrilled.

“Ben, Ben, c’mere.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me close, and I can feel the pride he has in me, just from his tight embrace. “I want you to meet an old friend of mine. This is Charles Bacalieri. We served in Vietnam together—he was in charge of keeping my pathetic butt alive.”

Charles smiles at me warmly and extends his hand. “Han’s boy. I always knew he’d straighten out, fly right, and be a family man. When I knew your father, he wasn’t much older than you.”

Dad laughs. “Yeah, I was just a terrified kid panicking every time I heard a loud noise. But I got used to it. Did my time, went to flight school, and I got off the tarmac and into the sky.”

I shake Charles’ hand, looking between him and my dad. Dad hasn’t had much time for friends in the last few years. And he doesn’t often talk about Vietnam.

“Your dad here was braver than he lets on.” I see his keen blue eyes flicker past me to where Rey is standing. “And who’s this young lady? Han, you’ve got a girl, too?”

Dad shakes his head. “That’s Rey, Benny’s girlfriend.” He motions for her to step closer, and she holds out her hand politely, staring up at the tall man in awe.

Charles studies her face for a moment. “Do I know you? You from Jakku?”

Rey nods. “Yes, sir. I was born here.”

He shakes his head. “You look like a woman who used to bring her car into my auto shop. But that was a long time ago.”

Charles turns back to my dad and Rey and I shrug at each other. From what I can follow, Charles retired from working on helicopters and opened an auto repair shop here in Jakku. Had a wife who’d passed away, never had any kids. And despite more than 25 years having gone by since they last saw each other, they talk as if not a day has gone by.

When Mom stops by with a hot dog for Dad, he introduces her to Charles, and the tall man whistles. “Solo, you lucky bastard.” Dad laughs happily.

On the drive home, Dad tells us more about their friendship. “I saved his life a few times. He saved mine a few times. We both got purple hearts in the process. I was always sorry I lost track of him after he retired.”

Mom smiles, and there is a mischievous glint in her eyes. “We’ll have to have him over for dinner. I want to know every story he has about what you were like before I met you.”

Dad groans audibly.

Rey and I grin. This is going to be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Junior enlisted ranks: Private, Private Second Class, Private First Class, Specialist. People in these ranks tend to be young; soldiers coming out of basic training are Privates. They can be as young as 18. It wouldn’t be that weird for someone who is 18 or 19 to talk to a girl Rey’s age. In fact—that’s the age gap/scenario of how Rey’s father and mother met. He was an Army PFC, roughly 19 years old, and she was a local girl, roughly 16 years old. 
> 
> “Stuck on a detail”: When you’re in the Army, you get to do things like details (set up for cookouts, mow grass, and so on) or staff duty, which includes sitting idle at a desk for 24 hours waiting for people to sign themselves in and out on leave. Riveting.
> 
> NCO (non-commissioned officer) ranks: Corporal, Sergeant, etc. 
> 
> Cavalry: They used to ride horses, but now they “ride” tanks! And yes, tank guys can’t be brawny. They can be tall, but bulk doesn’t help in those tight spaces inside a tank. The Soviets used to have strict size requirements for tankers.  
> I’m playing a little fast and loose with my knowledge of how Army Aviation is structured. Fortunately, the story doesn’t require too many details.


	30. merging lanes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> POV Rey. Idylls with Ben. Plutt's stinks. Boxing lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can almost forget the long, hot miserable day at Plutt’s when Ben comes barreling through my front door, grinning and growling playfully in equal measure as his big hands grab me by the waist and swing me around.

So _this_ is love. It’s open delight, laughter, and trust. It’s this wanting that never quite goes away. It’s this ache to make the world as bright and beautiful as possible so your lover never knows anything but joy. My Ben, who seems illuminated from within when he smiles, should always have the confidence that the next day will be a good one. That’s the way I feel when he’s with me, anyway.

“Ben!” I squeal, wriggling away from him, red-faced and panting from the exertion of wrestling with him. “I’m so sweaty and gross from Plutt’s.”

“Don’t care,” he says with a laugh, chasing me down the little hallway to my room. “I’m sweaty, too. What are you afraid of?”

The way he looks at me heats me up all over, and I press my thighs together half-consciously as he takes a seat on the edge of my bed.

“That we’re so sweaty we’ll just fly off one another?”

“That’s one theory.”

He’s already pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside, and shoving his shorts and boxers down his legs, and I have to hurry to catch up, stripping in front of him. It was only days ago that I felt shy about this, and yet here I am, shamelessly bare. His cock is already proudly jutting away from his body, and he palms himself, looking me over hungrily.

Everything’s so different from before. I want and feel wanted, and despite his enthusiasm, Ben always touches me with care, letting his curious, crafty fingers tease and coax pleasure out of me. He’s hungry but never reckless. In his arms, I feel precious.

I step into his arms and lean down for a kiss, dancing my fingertips over his broad shoulders. The room isn’t cold, but I can feel the shiver in Ben’s skin, and I smile into his mouth. His big hands cup my backside, and he squeezes before coaxing me to stand, straddling his legs so he can stroke his fingers between my delicate folds. His mouth finds its way to my breasts, and he laps at them, sucking on my nipples as he makes pleased noises.

I murmur a small sound of pleasure, and when I’m wet and trembling with need, Ben lays back on the bed and tugs at my hips for me to climb over him. His face looks hazy, as if he’s satisfied already, and he watches me intently as I scramble on top of him, resting on my knees as I straddle his hips, my hands on his chest.

Well.

“Still think you’re going to slide off me?”

I huff a laugh and lean down to nip at the curve of his neck, and his big body lurches beneath mine with a strangled groan. “Nope.”

We kiss leisurely, and when I feel his hands on my hips, I let him guide me onto his cock, sinking down with a blissful sigh. Ben’s already gone slack-jawed, watching me.

The stretch of him inside my tight channel is intense, challenging--from this angle, he feels even deeper, somehow bigger inside me. It takes a moment to find just the right position, and when I do, I shudder happily. Yesterday, when Ben had brought me home, I’d been too tender for anything more than cuddling—he’s large and eager and my body isn’t yet accustomed to sex, though Ben seems be adapting quite well. But right now, I’m satisfyingly full of him, and I move experimentally, rolling my hips and trying to ride him, albeit awkwardly. We both laugh a little, and we clasp our hands together, giving me balance as I move.

Eventually, Ben pulls me down into his chest, kissing my cheek, biting my neck and shoulder, and he begins to thrust up into me solidly. My eyes flutter closed, and I gasp into his shoulder as I feel a tight coil of something building within me. His hands grasp me by the hips tightly, and I feel him hit a place previously unknown to me inside my body, and I feel myself shatter and cry out, wrecked with pleasure. While my core is still fluttering and clenching around him, Ben groans, and with a few jerky thrusts follows, spilling into me with a gasp.

+++

After I shower and change, I return to my room to find Ben kneeling on my bedroom floor, looking at my bookshelf and some of my keepsakes--pictures of Maz and me, blue ribbons from the school science fairs in elementary and middle school, little rocks that I’d painted designs on, and the other bric a brac of my childhood. He looks amused, holding up a turtle shell for inspection before setting it back down.

“Anything interesting?”

He turns and gives me a slow smile, his hair falling across his forehead. “Sure. It’s all pieces of you. I like the turtle shell. Is it something you found?”

“Yeah. I was on a walk with Maz at Niima River State Park an hour from here. It was already bleached out by the sun.”

It had been a beautiful day. Maz was so fit when I was young—she loved taking me on walks in the woods, where she’d tell me the names of the trees, and we’d watch the animals. Nothing strenuous—she was in her 70s, after all—but she was of a mind that people should keep moving as long as they could. This turtle shell is just one of the precious pieces of my girlhood that I’d have to lose if anyone found out about me and I had to go into care. It amuses me to see Ben studying them so diligently.

“When do you have to go home for dinner?”

“In a bit. You’re sure you don’t want to come over?” He looks concerned, but I shake my head. I’d been with him all weekend, after all.

“It would look strange, like I was abandoning Maz.”

His lips press together unhappily, and he stands up. “Did you fill out the food bank forms?”

He’d left an application on my dinette table yesterday and made me promise to look it over. I had, but, as always, fear spiked in me as I’d read the required information.

“They want a social security number for the head of household. Do they run a check? To verify identity and income level?”

Ridiculous. I feel like a criminal trying to live off grid. Ben’s clearly not used to thinking this way, and his shoulders lift in a shrug.

“Ben, I don’t know that I can risk the exposure. My free lunch at school is already a risk because of the annual renewal paperwork.”

I give him a little smile and motion with my head for him to follow me. I pour us a couple glasses of water, and I grab another donut, leftover from Friday, before crashing onto the couch together. He declines, on account that dinner is on the horizon for him.

“Let me check, okay? I can ask to do office duty and see how they run the checks. You’ll come for dinner tomorrow, though?” He brushes his fingers over my cheek, and I lean into his hand.

“Yeah, of course. Anyway, what about you? How was the SAT class today? Is Poe upset that Paige didn’t go for his funnel cake seduction?”

I don’t really want to sit here and talk about me and all my problems. Ben seems so untroubled today, unlike a couple weeks ago, but I wonder how much of that is just the euphoria of _us_.

Ben laughs. “Class was good. I think I’m going to be okay—we did a practice test today, and I’m already 100 points up from the last one. I think I just had to learn the style of the questions more than anything.”

“And Poe?”

“He’s decided that she’s worth fighting for.”

We both snort, our shoulders shaking as we laugh. “Paige is going to be so glad to go back to school next month.”

+++

“So when are you scheduling that drive test, kiddo?” Han asks conversationally as he loads my plate with more chicken casserole.

“Oh, um, I scheduled it yesterday. I couldn’t get a spot until next month, though. Summer testing spots go fast.”

I answer quickly, then shove a forkful of food into my mouth to prevent having to answer any more questions for at least a minute or two.

“I see…”

His look tells me he most definitely does not see. He narrows his eyes at me, then plunks a lump of casserole on Ben’s plate. Ben’s busying himself by scooping roasted brussels sprouts onto his plate, then passing the serving dish over to Leia, who keeps looking at her phone, waiting for updates on a work emergency.

Ben and I had headed straight to his house today, rather than linger. Apparently, Han and Leia had raised an eyebrow or two when he rolled in 15 minutes late for dinner looking more rumpled and satisfied than an afternoon spent at the food bank should have warranted.

“More people take Driver’s Ed in the summer.” Ben supplies, doing his best to help me out. I’d explained to him my conundrum—that the state demanded an in-person legal guardian for sign-off on the full license, which left me at a distinct disadvantage. Ben and I had debated the merits of finding someone to pretend to be Maz, but ultimately, we agreed that I couldn’t trust anyone with that kind of task. Again, too risky. “So more people test in the summer.”

“And since my birthday in the summer, I have to compete with all those kids.” I grin wryly, and I let Ben put more food on my plate, but when he keeps piling it on, I have to give him a look. It’s not like I’m going to regain the weight I need in one meal. He smiles sheepishly and passes the bowl to Leia.

“Well, don’t let your skills get rusty. I’ll still take you out for lessons, if you need.” Han seems relatively placated by our explanation, and now here come the mashed potatoes. “And before the thought enters your mind, it’s not legal for you to be behind the wheel with Ben for supervision. Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” I say politely. At least he hasn’t told Leia, or I know she’d have me hog tied and trussed.

At least for now, I’m safe from anyone asking about my driver’s license for another month, and maybe if I don’t bring it up, people will keep not asking about it.

Leia looks up suddenly, setting her phone down with a heavy clunk, looking apologetic, albeit frustrated. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know that these cell phones are going to be good for society. I’ll put it away. I don’t even think I’ll bring it to the beach in a few weeks. If the US Army wants me, they can call the condo.”

“Don’t give them the condo number!” Han grouses.

Ben frowns, studying the food on his plate, and I reach under the table to squeeze his knee. He glances at me, and he gives me a little smile. I understand then he’s just centering himself, but he’s okay.

“I wish it were that simple,” Leia sighs. “I’ll check messages once a day, and that’s it. Anyway, enough of that. Rey, sweetheart, you’re still able to come along?” Her gaze is warm as her eyes rest on my face. I feel the usual twist in my stomach as I get ready to lie to her. Again.

I nod, and I meet Leia’s kind eyes steadily. “Yes, Maz says it’s fine. Aunt Linda’s going to come and spend the week with her. They’ve been wanting to catch up, so they’re happy.” Good ol’ Aunt Linda.

“Well, we’ll be sure to get you the phone number for the condo so she can have it, too. She really wouldn’t feel better meeting us first?”

I laugh. “No. She says you must be good people—she likes Ben’s manners. And besides, you’ve had months to murder me and sell my organs on the black market, and you haven’t done that yet.”

Han barks a laugh at that, and Leia looks appalled and amused. Ben snorts, and his cheeks dimple as he grins. I feel victorious, having entertained all three Solos, and, rather proud of myself, I tuck into the remains of my dinner.

+++

The days speed by. I wake, I work, I see Ben, and it all starts over again.

Plutt’s cements its place in my psyche as not quite hell, but perhaps a block or two away. More and more of the electronics I receive to “repair” don’t really need much work at all. Mostly, he just wants the serial numbers scrubbed and any broken wiring replaced. It’s easy enough, but it’s just me working in the shot, and the stack of stereos and VCRs never seems to go down.

He generally ignores me, except to grouse that I need to work faster or consider other employment, and I think that’s sound like a better and better idea. Especially when the delivery truck comes by, and I have to wait for an hour at a time while listening to the men shouting at Plutt. This weekend. This weekend I’m going to start job hunting. I’ll get a newspaper from the grocery store, and I’ll see what’s available.

Ben’s right. I’ve got to get out of this place before something bad happens.

In the meantime, I convince him that he should give me at least one boxing lesson. It won’t hurt for me to learn how to hold my body and throw a punch. Life skills.

Ben brings me over to his house to for my first boxing lesson and to have dinner on Saturday, and I can immediately tell he’s relishing his role as my instructor. He’s got a whole lesson plan set, he tells me, and he begins by making me jog a lap around his neighborhood before we do anything at all.

When we’re in the garage, Ben wraps cloth bandages around my hands to protect my knuckles and fingers. His movements are gentle and careful, and he turns over each hand to make sure everything is all set, then kisses my palms, his whiskey-hued eyes flickering to my face. I shiver slightly, feeling my lips tug at the corners, giving him a little smile.

“Ready?”

I nod, and we move over to the large standing punching bag. Ben’s already made some lines on the concrete floor with painter’s tape. Footwork guides, I guess.

Ben begins to show me proper form, the correct way to balance on your feet. He demonstrates different types of hits, and how to protect one’s face and body. After a few moments, he strips off his tee shirt to better show me exactly how his body is moving as he goes through his demonstrations, working his standing punching bag with powerful hits. I am certain he’s showing off for me, judging from the sly, heated grin he tosses my way, flexing casually.

It works, and my eyes rove over the way his muscles flex and ripple. It takes me a moment to remember why I asked for this lesson—I want to be able to fight for myself if I need to. When I need to. _Focus, Rey. Focus_.

When it’s my turn, Ben is flushed and sweating slightly—the garage is hot, and he was working the bag hard—and he helps maneuver me into the correct body position. His big hands guide my shoulders, and he shapes my arms the right way. As I throw a test punch or two into the air, Ben is right behind me, holding onto my hips so I don’t throw my body in a weird way.

“Alright. Start slow, breathe when you hit, and don’t throw your upper body too much. Find the right balance. Keep your legs under you.”

Ben adjusts my shoulders a little more and pokes at my arms to see if I’m too stiff, and I know he’s letting his hands linger a split second longer than necessary from the playful glint in his eyes. I roll my eyes at him, and he laughs, backing away, hands up.

“Okay. Go for it.”

Ben watches attentively as I punch and jab at his punching bag. I feel silly, like I’m all gawky angles and flailing, scrawny arms, and I’m not exactly sure where to put my feet. Whenever I falter or hesitate, Ben steps in to correct my form as needed, broad hands sliding over my shoulders to show me out to frame my arms in front of myself, and occasionally slipping down to hold my hips so I don’t throw myself awkwardly into the punches.

We work on jabs, uppercuts, and different kinds of cross-body punches. I’m clumsy, but after thirty minutes, I’m dripping sweat, my hair clinging to the back of my neck, and I feel like I’m starting to catch on. I also feel like my arms are going to be incredibly sore tomorrow. I’ve always had decent endurance and wiry strength, but boxing takes power. Now I know why Ben’s shoulders and chest are so muscular. And attractive.

“I like your moves, Sands,” he tells me with a big grin.

“C’mon. I must look like a spastic noodle.” That’s certainly how it feels. I wonder when I’ll start feeling powerful.

“You did great! Just keep practicing. You should have seen me when I started. I’d just hit 6 feet, and I was still growing, and I barely weighed 160lbs. My ears were the most dangerous thing about me.”

“They still are!” I giggle up at him, reaching to caress one of his ears. I know how much he hates them, but I think they’re charming, especially how they poke out from under his shaggy hair. “I tremble before them.”

Ben snorts, and when I turn to start pulling the cloth boxing wraps off my knuckles, he crowds in behind me, caging me against the punching bag with a playful growl.

“You fear the ear?”

I close my eyes as he presses behind me, dipping his head to leave wet kisses on my sweaty neck. I squeal, laughing, softly, “Ooh, I’m all gross, Ben!”

I turn and he leans into me further, his hands moving to hold my hips close to his own, long fingers brushing under the hem of my tank top to stroke the small of my back.

“You look good, all flushed and sweaty,” he murmurs before kissing me soundly.

“I’m going to be so sore tomorrow that I’ll hardly be able to move.” My arms find their way around his waist, and I give his ass a firm squeeze. “Do you think I’ll be able to punch somebody if I need to?”

He is too busy tasting the salty sweat on my collarbone to answer me, and his hands are creeping up the front of my tank top to cup my breasts through my bra.

“Ben! Your parents…” I whisper, feeling myself melting under his touch.

“Shhhh. Don’t talk about them right now.” But as his hand begins to slide under my bra, we hear the garage door rattle, and we jump apart as if scalded, moments before the door begins to roll upward and we see Leia parking her car in the driveway.

She gives us a speculative glance as she steps out of the car. “Boxing lesson go well?”

“Rey’s a natural,” Ben says, and I shake my head.

“I’m terrible, actually. Ben just doesn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

Leia laughs, hitching her purse over her shoulder.

“Well, why don’t you two go ahead and get cleaned up? I think the only thing worse than having one sweaty teenager in my house would be two sweaty teenagers.”

She waves her hands at us, shooing us back into the main house, closing the garage door behind her.

+++

I don’t know why it is, maybe it’s because I have Ben vouching for me now, but Leia’s eyes don’t follow me with the scrutiny they did just a couple weeks ago. She watches me, to be sure, but it’s a little less worried than it used to be. I know I still have to be careful—she’s too clever by far. Han, too, for that matter. He hides his smarts behind dad jokes, but sometimes I get the sense he knows exactly who he’s looking at when his gaze lingers on me for too long. Ben said something once about his dad having a rough childhood. Like knows like, I suppose.

After dinner one night with Ben and his parents, Ben grabs a picnic blanket and spreads it on the lawn of his backyard. We sprawl on our stomachs, using the cushions from the lawn furniture to rest our heads. He reaches a hand for mine with an apologetic look on his face.

“They use the social security numbers to check income levels at the food bank. I asked how they did the applications, and they told me the whole process.”

I had figured that. I shrug slightly and squeeze his hand. “It’s okay. I’m not starving. And school starts at the end of August, and that’s not so far away. Just six weeks.”

Ben closes his eyes and exhales through his nose heavily, a very grumpy sound. “You’re out of your mind if you think this is okay.”

Well that smarts a little, and I wince.

“Hey, watch it. I’m not a sasquatch like some people I know. It doesn’t take as much to keep me going.” I may as well try to tease him out of this. I don’t really want to be scolded.

“So you’re fine with the status quo? Have you even done anything about Plutt’s?”

“I’ve been looking at the want ads. It’s hard, Ben—I need to find a place that isn’t fussy about the minor work permit.”

“It’s almost like you shouldn’t be living alone,” he scoffs slightly, and I recoil. His mood has shifted so quickly, and I’m struggling to keep up. He’d been especially tender with me earlier, curling his body over mine so protectively, when we’d had sex in my tiny twin bed. Dinner with his parents had gone well. And now here he was, taking me to task.

“What’s with you? We’ve been so happy. Your parents are finally done grilling me, and now you’re here scolding me when you _know_ why I’m living this way.”

Ben grumbles, a rumbling sound deep in his chest and he brings my hands to his lips, kissing them. “I’m sorry. But I couldn’t help you today, and it’s got me questioning the whole thing. I’m not going to go back on my promise, but I want to make sure you remember your end of the bargain—if I think you’re in trouble, I’m telling my parents.”

“I know that.” My voice is a whisper. “But things aren’t bad right now. They’re really, really good.”

Hard. But good. But I’m starting to think that’s all anyone can expect in life.

“Sometimes I think that… that if I can take care of you, maybe it’ll make up for some of the terrible shit I did in Chandrila. Like some kind of cosmic balance. It’s not the only reason I want to. I want to for _you_ , because I love you. I want so badly to prove that I’m not a monster.”

“You’re not a monster. You don’t have to prove that to anyone, except maybe yourself.” I brush my fingertips over his upper arm lightly. “Will you ever tell me what happened? All of it?”

Ben stills, and I can see the dismay and fear he still holds at the thought of telling me everything. “I… I don’t know that I can do that. Yet. It’s ugly.”

“I won’t push. It’s up to you. Either way, my feelings for you won’t change. I know who you are.” I feel like I’ve rarely said something truer. Ben feels like the other half of me. I didn’t even know what was missing.

“It’s better when I’m with you.” His voice is soft as he wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me close. “Everything makes more sense.”

I know the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s 100% true that I, the author, will always find ways to make fun of Poe. I love that character so much, and his dunderheaded enthusiasm gives me life. 
> 
> I hope those cell phones don’t ruin society, either, Leia! 
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes I make when attempting to describe the sport of boxing. I only ever took one aerobic kickboxing class, and it was a disaster. Who’s got two thumbs and is not coordinated? THIS GAL. 
> 
> You can find me on Twitter. I’m marginally entertaining. @junkyardjeditr1
> 
> Also—I’m planning my next fic, and I’m having trouble deciding which of the following ideas to pursue first: 
> 
> Regency AU w/ magical elements (think: auras, soulmates, something like that) where rebellious young heiress Rey meets slightly grumpy Lord Ben
> 
> OR
> 
> Modern AU where young widow Rey meets troubled college professor Ben. 
> 
> OR
> 
> Modern AU where where young widow Rey meets spoiled college student Ben (who is a few years younger than she is). 
> 
> What do you think I should do? What interests you? No promises I'll comply with your wishes, of course. But I AM curious!


	31. right curve ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Ben considers his future. Boxing lesson. Dinner with Charlie. Playing house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “All set, Mrs. Jones. That’s everything on your list.” I smile at the tiny, elderly woman as I place the cardboard box of goods in front of her. She’d given me her shopping list, and I’d wandered the food pantry, selecting all her items. As one of our more elderly customers, I always have her take a seat on the bench while I get everything she needs.

“You’re an angel,” she tells me, beaming from behind her thick glasses.

I love helping her, but I don’t like to think of a woman her age alone and so reliant on a food bank. It twists me up, how unfair life is. Mrs. Jones has a sweet, friendly face, but she is older than her years from a lifetime of hardship. Her face is lined from sun exposure and worry, and her shoulders are stooped from too much manual labor.

After she peers into the box to make sure it’s all there, I follow her out to her car with the groceries. I wonder where her family is, if she has children, if there’s anyone at home to help her.

“Can you manage from here, Mrs. Jones? You know we have a delivery service if that would be better for you.”

“Oh, it gives me a reason to leave the house and talk to you, handsome,” she teases.

I grin back at her, loading the box into the trunk of her car, then hold her car door open for her while she climbs in slowly. “Are you flirting with me, Mrs. Jones? My girlfriend’s going to get jealous.”

Mrs. Jones snorts. “I’ll see you in two weeks, young man.”

As I watch her car leave the parking lot, I get the same feeling I always do. It’s not enough. I can help this lady get some oatmeal, rice, and canned vegetables, sure, but I wonder why this need exists in the first place. Something fractured in the system along the way.

Earlier today, during the SAT class break, everyone was talking about where they wanted to go for college. Rose wants to go to a private university like MIT and study engineering. Finn has his eye on a big state university where he can pursue business management. Poe wants to go wherever they have a good aeronautical engineering program, because he’s bent on becoming a pilot. Gwen wants to go to some private college in Vermont or wherever.

I still don’t know where I want to go or what I want to study. I used to figure I’d just go to a state school and study computer science. I like computers. But lately that doesn’t seem right, ever since I started work at the food bank. I feel like maybe I want to try something else. I think, not for the first time, that asking high school kids to decide on a career is patently awful.

I’m pensive by the time I get to Rey’s, and she pulls me inside her trailer with a concerned expression after she’s had a glance at my face. Soft lips press against my cheek affectionately. I don’t feel my usual pulse of desire for her—my mood is more muted today.

“What is it? You have that look in your eye.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you can’t make up your mind whether to be sad or angry or maybe both.”

I sigh, and I wrap her tightly in my arms, kissing the top of her head. “You’re on the right track, I guess. I just got caught up thinking about how I don’t have any idea what I really want to study in college or where I want to go. And that scares me because I’m sort of supposed to have an idea by now.”

“Don’t people change majors, though? That’s a thing, isn’t it? I don’t think you have to know for sure today…” Her lips are pursed as she ponders this. “Are you not sure about computer science?”

I shrug, following her into her tiny kitchen. “No. Yes. Maybe. I just think maybe there are other things I don’t even know about yet, so why should I rule them out?”

“Well, at school they’re always saying college is a place where you can figure out who you are. Maybe just pick a big school with a lot of options?”

“I guess. Maybe I should just take a year off.”

Rey shakes her head, her lips curling in a wry smile, and I watch her busy herself, pulling out a couple of pots from her cupboards. “Your mom would not be okay with that.”

“It’s my life…”

A little narrow-shouldered shrug from Rey. She’s not wrong. I can imagine Mom and Dad going into meltdown mode quite clearly if I announced I didn’t want to go to college right away. They’re definitely not going to pay for me to take a gap year abroad or allow me to lay the house doing nothing. Nope, those aren’t options. The only reason to hang around Jakku for another year is Rey… and I think she would be upset if I didn’t go to school. Scratch that. I know she’d be furious. She’d think I was tossing away my future.

“Since you sent me home with some groceries yesterday, why don’t I make us some spaghetti?”

I’d slipped a couple extra things from our kitchen into her usual leftover bag yesterday after dinner with my parents. They’ve already gotten used to feeding Rey roughly four or five times a week, and something tells me they’d never question if she showed up for more meals, anyway.

Rey’s never cooked for me before, and I’m half afraid, considering her self-proclaimed skillset of scrambling eggs and boiling water for instant noodles. Still, she gives me such a hopeful look, that I nod.

“Let me call home, and I’ll help you.”

She casts me a little smile as she starts rummaging in her food cupboard for a jar of pasta sauce and a box of noodles.

+++

Dinner isn’t bad, despite our lack of culinary experience. I should probably pay more attention to what my dad’s doing in the kitchen. Rey flips on the radio and sings along to a Faith Hill song then other saccharine sweet pop country tunes while we sautee the onions and ground beef and make a meat sauce to go with the spaghetti noodles. I dance with her a little, twirling her in the tiny kitchen, making her smile broaden until I get to see her pretty dimples.

Dishes get washed and kisses are had while we watch TV together lazily on her sofa, and when a storm kicks up, I kiss her softly, murmuring that I have to go home. She pouts playfully and walked me to the door peering out at the rainy night sky.

“Damn wind is going to take my TV antenna again,” she mutters with a shake of her head.

“Maybe it’ll hold.” I cup her face in my hands and kiss her nose. I don’t have any answers about my future, but I feel peaceful just having spent a few hours eating and snuggling on the couch with Rey. She’s right that I can figure it out tomorrow or next month. I have time.

I still hate leaving her behind, and it’s hard to step away, but she assures me, as always, that she’s fine. She’s strong and lovely, illuminated from the soft light of her living room lamp as she waves goodbye to me. I don’t know where she finds the strength to live like this and still find it in herself to cosset me, when I know she’d give anything to have my kind of problems.

When I get home, Mom and Dad are dozing in the living room, Dad with a cookbook on his chest, and Mom’s feet in his lap. Her reading glasses are crooked on her face, and she’s snoring loudly. I carefully pick up the cookbook and set it aside, wrinkling my nose at the beef stroganoff recipe Dad’s been reading, then I take Mom’s glasses off her face and set them neatly on the coffee table. After draping a blanket over them, I head upstairs to my room, and for the first time in a while, I decide to log online and start up AIM.

I have too much energy to sleep, and I figure I can review my SAT notes in the meantime.

Almost immediately, the notifications start chirping. Either I’m popular, or it’s the sheer novelty of a sasquatch sighting in the wilds of the internet that has people excited. I’m voting for the latter. I know fully well the only reason anyone talks to me is because they like Rey. Maybe that’s a little too bleak. But it was that way in the beginning… Rey was the reason they bothered to learn my name.

The first notification is from someone new.

**F10w3rP0w3r:** Solo, is that you? Poe told me this was your AIM name. I’ve never seen you online.

 **xXBenOSXx:** New cryptid, who dis?

 **F10w3rP0w3r:** Hilarious. It’s Rose. Duh. Anyway, there’s a huge lake party happening soon. Cookout, swimming, beach volleyball, canoes. It’s going to be a good time!

 **xXBenOSXx:** I’ve been to enough parties this year.

 **F10w3rP0w3r:** You and Rey need to get out more. Come on. It’s the lake! It’ll be amazing. Kaydel’s friend Mitaka is hosting, so you know the people invited will be cool and the music will be good.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Do you really think Rey wants to go to a party? Also, I don’t even know Mitaka.

 **F10w3rP0w3r:** I think you could talk her into it. I seem to have lost my power of persuasion with you in the picture. You two have turned into an old, married couple. Where is your sense of adventure?

 **xXBenOSXx:** We’ve got _Murder, She Wrote_ reruns to watch. I’ll let you know.

It doesn’t take long before I get another chirping AIM notification. Apparently, my friends have decided the way to get me to do anything is to just simply bombard me with chaos until I agree to whatever it is they want just so they’ll stop pestering. To be fair, it works. I’m beginning to understand why Rey has a healthy respect for Rose and Finn.

**88FStorm88:** I swear to God, Solo, if you don’t drag Rey to that party, Rose is never going to let me hear the end of it.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Sounds like a Finn problem and not a Ben problem.

 **88FStorm88:** Sasquatch, please. Do me a favor here. You know how Rose is. Besides, if she thinks you’re thwarting her fun, it will become a Ben problem.

 **xXBenOSXx:** You’re both crazy if you think Rey’s going to be excited to go to a party. You know she hates that sort of thing, right?

 **88FStorm88:** But you’ll talk to her?

 **xXBenOSXx:** I’ll tell her about it. But I don’t want to go either, for the record.

 **88FStorm88:** You don’t even know who will be there.

 **xXBenOSXx:** People will be there. Anyway, are you running with Poe and me tomorrow morning, or are you going to be lazy?

I’m regretting turning on AIM. A party sounds awful. I still hate thinking of what happened at Zorii’s party and how vulnerable Rey would have been if we hadn’t planned so carefully. I don’t know that I want to spend an evening with people I don’t know while loud music I hate plays. Okay, I sound like a cranky old man. It’s not my fault if I’ve got a perfect love nest with my girlfriend, a little voice in my head tells me. I’ll let Rey decide this one.

There’s another chirp, and I groan, feeling a weary exhaustion roll over me. These IMs are putting me out of my peaceful mood rapidly.

**HuxSupreme:** Solo, you unblocked me?

 **xXBenOSXx:** Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve been too busy to be online this summer.

 **HuxSupreme:** Oh. Well. Are you doing that SAT class? I might take the next session. Is it useful?

 **xXBenOSXx:** …are you trying to have a conversation with me? I thought I was clear on that issue.

 **HuxSupreme:** Fine. Fuck off, Solo.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Atta boy. Now you get it.

I smirk, and I log off AIM. Hux must be desperate if he thinks I’m going to be friendly with him. I guess his social life is much diminished. My mind turns over Rey’s desire to relent on keeping him in mental purgatory over the photos from Zorii’s party, but I admit to myself that I’m not ready to give quarter to the enemy. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

+++

Time is flying. I’m down to the last few SAT classes, and I’m picking up more bagging shifts at the commissary and slipping off to Rey’s place whenever I can manage it. I want summer to linger forever, these long, golden days, busy but still so easy and carefree. There’s just the one cloud, but there’s a lovely pair of greenish goldenish eyes that can make me forget everything.

I roll the windows down in my Wagoneer, enjoying the way the hot summer air feels on my skin after being inside the arctic-quality air conditioning of the commissary for the last few hours. I consider just heading off-post to go see what Rey’s up to and maybe bring her here for dinner, but I’m so sweaty, I think I’m better off grabbing a shower before heading her way.

When I get home on Saturday afternoon, I’m surprised to see the garage door open, and my dad’s Falcon is in the driveway. He’s leaning under the propped-up hood, motioning at some obscure part, to the careful attention of not just his friend Charlie Bacalieri, but also Rey, who is perched on a stool between them, holding a flashlight to illuminate the darker recesses of the engine as Dad troubleshoots whatever is the matter this time around. The Falcon is a great old car, but it always needs something done to keep it from falling apart. She’s entranced by the discussion, and I laugh seeing how openly excited she is. Dad asks her a question and I can’t quite make out her reply, but he and Charlie grin at her.

She’s so caught up, that she hardly notices my arrival, and when she looks up to see me standing to the side of the car, her smile becomes incandescent. It’s warm outside, and I can see the fine tendrils of her hair sticking to hear neck, and I try not to stare at her lean, tan legs.

“Ben! I forgot you were working today.”

“How are you here?” I ask, shaking Charlie’s hand politely and letting my dad scruff my hair.

“I got off work early, and Rose and Paige were running errands around Jakku, so they picked me up.”

I look at Rey, and I see that her nails are painted a vivid shade of pink, and her hair has been crimped within an inch of its life. She’s obviously been hanging out with the Tico sisters and subject yet again to their aesthetic whims. At least she’s managed to avoid a full makeover. She’s dressed in her usual shorts and a slightly faded tee from her Jakku Middle School days.

“And when this little lady came strolling up the driveway looking for you, we decided to put her to work!” Charlie says with a belly laugh. My dad laughs, too.

“You wouldn’t let me do anything but hold a flashlight,” Rey says, complaining good-naturedly. “I know how to use a socket wrench!”

“You also don’t know anything about car engines.” Dad tells her, his voice gruff but affectionate. “So you’re on flashlight duty until you do.”

“I know how to change the oil and air filter in a car,” she protests, sliding off the stool she’s been perched on, and walking to my side so she can squeeze her arms around me. “And I can rewire anything. I bet I could hotwire this car if you gave me a chance to look…”

“Rey!”

Her eyes widen at Dad’s voice, but he’s grinning, and she relaxes a hair. “You shouldn’t be thinking about hotwiring cars.”

Rey grins sheepishly. “It would be a purely academic exercise, I swear.”

Dad and Charlie shake their heads at her. Charlie’s the first to speak, and from the tilt of his head, I can tell he’s amused. “That innocent face is hiding some devious thoughts.”

Dad weighs in on that idea. The thought’s too laughable to him. “Nah. Rey’s not devious. She’s just a gear head. Likes to see how things work.”

I roll my eyes at Dad and Charlie, getting impatient with their banter. “Mind if I borrow this devious gear head?”

Rey elbows me, and I laugh. Dad and Charlie wave us off, and I see them bow their heads together under the hood, talking shop.

When I get her inside the house, through the door that leads into the kitchen from the garage, I cage Rey between my arms, pressing my lips against hers hungrily. She tastes sweet as always, and when she makes that little sighing noise she always does in the middle of a long kiss, I press her against the pantry door until we’re both breathing hard.

“I can’t wait until we’re at the beach,” I whisper in her ear. “I’m going to sneak into your bed, and I’m going to—”

Rey shivers, and I feel her hands curl into the front of my polo shirt. I’m thinking desperately of how to complete that sentence and sound sexy and not at all like a deviant. It’s completely different looking someone in the eye and saying raunchy things than when you’re on the phone.

There are footsteps coming from the garbage, and Rey’s eyes widen in alarm. Before anyone can catch us, I grab her hand and we bolt for the living room in a fit of laughter. I feel a little relieved.

+++

“I thought you were going to start going to a boxing gym again,” Rey says, panting as she delivers punches to the standing bag in my garage.

“Too busy right now. Maybe after I take the SAT.” I study her form and shake my head. “Nope. Hold on—hold on!”

I grab her by the waist and pull her back, shaping her shoulders so they’re tighter, and I plant my hands on her hips. If I can’t help myself from helping myself to a playful squeeze of her backside, well, no regrets. Rey may be slender, but she does have an amazing ass. And after some boxing lessons, she’s starting to get some wiry muscle on her arms.

“Hey!” Her protest is all play, and she smacks at my roaming hands without any intent of real damage to my person.

“You’re throwing your whole body into the punch. I’m going to hold your hips steady, and I want you to feel the difference.”

I’d been reluctant to teach her, more for her reasoning than lack of desire to show her a taste of my hobby—my stress release—but after a few lessons, I find I’m really enjoying this. I love her determination to get things right, the way her quick mind breaks down the mechanics of each body movement, and the feral energy she releases on the standing bag.

Rey huffs, and I enjoy watching the beads of sweat glisten on the back of her delicate neck. She bounces on the balls of her feet a little, and I laugh—she’s clearly seen too many Rocky movies. In the next moment, she tries her jabs again. She’s quick, but she’s not making a great deal of impact on the bag.

“Harder than that, Sands,” I tell her, and she growls, trying again. I can see why she wanted to throw her whole body into the punch—she’s trying to compensate. It’s a little better this time, and I tell her to start her cross-body punches.

We go like that for a while, and finally I let go of her hips. Her form remains tight, but she still just doesn’t have any power.

“Alright, champ. I think that’s enough. I don’t know if you’re ready to compete heavyweight yet.”

Rey sighs, stepping back, and I can see she’s just dripping with sweat now, the fine hairs around her face and neck clinging damply to her skin. Her face is flushed, but in a good way, as if she’s energized by the workout, rather than drained.

“I like the technique of it, but I don’t know that this could be anymore more than a fun workout for me. Maybe you’re right that what I need is a self-defense class or something.”

“Maybe I’m right?” I laugh, and I grab her hands to start unwinding the boxer’s wraps protecting her knuckles and fingers. “You’re built like a whippet. I think you should consider a weapon. Maybe a staff. That’d give you an edge.”

She snorts. “I’m not going to be some weirdo just carrying around a big stick in case I need to fight someone with it.”

We’re still debating it when Mom pokes her head in the garbage. “You two! I need you to get showered and set the table. Charlie’s coming to dinner tonight. Rey, you can use the shower in the master bedroom.”

+++

“So your father, he hears the explosion, and he’s running like a shot over the tarmac to get me—he drops all his tools, and before the next explosion, he tackles me to the ground!”

Charles Bacalieri grins and claps my dad on the back. “Han was so skinny back then, I could scarcely believe he had just knocked me down.”

Charlie, with his booming voice, massive size, and epic beard situation, is full of tales of my dad’s early days in the Army, especially his tour in Vietnam. He had been a helicopter mechanic then, having not been through the flight school yet. Charlie had been his long-suffering Master Sergeant, constantly making sure the young Solo didn’t get into too much trouble, which, apparently, was a full-time job.

Mom seems amused to get these stories—Dad doesn’t say much about that deployment, and hearing about my dad’s scrappy efforts to learn how to be a soldier and mechanic and eventually a helicopter pilot, survive in a war zone, and save Charlie’s life along the way is giving us both a new perspective.

Rey’s entertained, too. She knows my dad from his gruff teasing and culinary experiments, and I can tell she’s enjoying the stories, even the ones that don’t seem particularly plausible. Charlie’s a tall man who likes a tall tale.

Dad is wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, and I realize I haven’t seen him this at ease in a years, probably. My parents rarely had anyone over to our house in Chandrila, on account of my gloomy attitude. There’s no need to try to be social when you have a teenager ready to combust at any moment in time.

I think he’s missed the camaraderie of Army life—all these old warhorses showing scars, reminiscing over near-death experiences, and the long, arduous days overseas. Army people truly seem to love how much it absolutely sucks to be in the Army. It unites them in strange ways.

“Charlie, I was glad for you when you retired, but man did I miss you,” Dad tells him. “I figured you were glad not to have to drag me around anymore.”

“Nah, it wasn’t the same. What’s life without a confused Private Solo causing chaos for me to fix?”

“Probably a hell of a lot more peaceful,” Mom cuts in with a laugh. She gets up to retrieve the pitcher of iced tea to refill everyone’s glass, affectionately ruffling my dad’s hair in the process.

“I’m just glad our paths crossed again. And in Jakku! Well, you know what they say—everyone ends up at Fort Windu eventually. Center of the Army universe.”

“You’ve been here what… nearly thirty years now?” Mom asks.

“Yep, I’m a local now, I guess. My wife was a local gal. Never saw any need to go back to Philly. Weather here is better, anyway. And I got my auto shop, so that’s kept me busy, especially since my Marcy died. Now she was a live wire. Kept me on my toes! Jakku girls are feisty.”

He smiles smiles fondly at some memory, then turns his eyes to Rey and then me, his smile getting wider “But you know that, don’t you, Benny? I bet this little gal keeps you guessing. She’s got a spark in her eyes.”

My parents laugh and Rey turns red. I give her hand a squeeze and grin at her, enjoying her embarrassment. “She does. The first thing she ever did was call me ‘sasquatch’.”

“I said I was sorry!” she blurts out, making my parents laugh even harder. I lean over and kiss her cheek, and she looks torn between glaring at me and scampering away to hide.

Charlie chuckles. “Sharp-tongued Jakku girls. There should be some kind of warning.”

“Now, be nice, Charlie,” Dad admonishes him, still laughing, looking between the two of us. “Rey’s doing the best she can, given that she puts up with this son of mine.”

Okay, now Rey and I are both squirming while the three adults look extremely satisfied with themselves. Rey’s fingers tap a quick SOS on the back of my hand. She knows as well as I do if we linger, Dad’s liable to start teasing us both until we are paralyzed with mortification.

“Um, can we be excused?” I ask, feeling pained about what’s to come if we don’t get away from this table. Mom must see the desperation on my face because she gives me a wryly sympathetic glance.

“Sure. Make sure those plates get into the dishwasher.”

As we get up, Rey abandoning the table as fast as can be, I can hear my parents chuckling. “Those two,” my mom murmurs quietly. “We love to tease them, but they’re both such great kids. Ben is so responsible, and Rey is the sweetest girl.”

I feel that heaviness, rock-like and solid, in me hearing her words. I don’t know how responsible my mom would think me, if she knew what I was hiding. I hear my mom’s voice soften, and a grunt of assent from Dad, and I realize they’re still talking about us.

Charlie rumbles a pleasant-sounding laugh. “She looks like a friend of my wife’s. But that one had a temper on her. Threw her own daughter out when she was a teenager. What was her name? I dunno. It was a long time ago.”

+++

“A party? At Dopheld Mitaka’s lake house?” Rey’s nose wrinkles, and she buries her face against my chest. “Why do Rose and Finn want us to go to that?”

The party isn’t for another couple of weeks, but because Rose and Finn asked me, I am telling Rey of the planned gathering.

“Maybe they just like the idea of a party at a lake?”

“That part does sound fun, but I’m not really friends with Mitaka. Kaydel and Gwen are okay, but… everyone else…” Rey groans. “We made kind of a scene at Zorii’s party. I don’t know that we’re wanted there. We kind of kicked the beehive.”

I guess that’s the one thing we hadn’t calculated. We may have exacted revenge on Hux and Snap, but they had friends. At least, Snap did. Shaming him probably hadn’t won us any popularity contests. Not that either one of us was popular beforehand. And we can’t control who’s going to show up at one of these events. Though honestly, I haven’t heard a whisper all summer of what happened nearly two months ago now. Then again, Rey and I have kept to ourselves. We’ve only hung out with Rose and Finn and Poe, really.

“Maybe we can do our own thing. We don’t have to go.”

Rey nods at that, and she presses a slow kiss to my collarbone. As always, the touch of her lips on my skin sends electric shivers through my body.

We’ve been curled in her bed for a couple of hours, celebrating the end of my SAT class. In just a couple of weeks I’ll take the test, but for now, at least, I don’t have to spend four hours a day in a classroom drilling math and vocabulary. I think it helped. Based on my practice scores, I shouldn’t have trouble making a case for admission to a good university. And now, thankfully, this means that on Saturday we’re finally leaving for the beach. So a little celebration was in order. I trace my fingertips down the little notches of her delicate spine, enjoying the baby-soft smoothness of her skin.

My stomach growls, and Rey laughs, smoothing her hand over my stomach, patting it lightly. “I forgot to feed you!”

I pull her on top of me and bite the curve of her neck lightly, cupping her firm little rear in my hands. “I’ll just eat you.”

“Hmm. I’m probably just bone and gristle. Too rangy. Why don’t I fix something to eat? I haven’t had lunch yet.”

I’m about to protest, but my stomach growls again. I’d been in such a hurry to get over here after the SAT class, darting right past Poe and Gwen, skipping lunch.

“Okay. Fine.” I sigh, and Rey just laughs sliding off me and scooping up her clothes from the floor, dressing. “I’ll make you my fancy ramen. You’ll love it.”

Rey’s concept of fancy ramen involved adding a beaten egg to the boiling noodles and dropping in a scoop of frozen peas. “Vegetable, protein, and starch!” she declares with a flourish, portioning her concoction into two bowls for us. “Three out of four food groups represented.”

It smells good, and it’s warm and satisfying, and I eat my bowl of fancy ramen quickly. She’s happily consuming hers, simultaneously fretting with the TV. Every channel is static, and she sighs, turning it off and tossing the remote aside.

“Antenna’s out again. I guess the afternoon just planned itself.”

“Do you need me to call a repair guy?”

The look she gives me is withering. “To do what? I’ll fix it myself, like I do after every storm.”

I shrug. When we’re done eating, she grumbles as she heads to the doorway to pull on her battered old tennis shoes and grabs a wrench and some pliers out of the small basket by her front door. “C’mon, Ben. Least you can do is give me a boost.”

“Wait, what?” I put my shoes on and follow her onto the porch, and she motions upward.

“Antenna’s on the roof. I usually just shimmy up there on my own using a chair, but you can just give me a hand up, right?”

I look at Rey and I look up at the roof of her trailer. “It’ll hold you?” There are still puddles on the ground from yesterday’s storm, and I worry that the roof is slick.

Rey smacks my arm. “Yes, of course! Now come on. There’s got to be something useful about having a tall boyfriend.” She grins at me cheekily, and I look up at the roof with an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

“Fine. Here.” I frown, but I lock my hands together and make a foothold for her. She places her hands on my shoulders, and on the count of three, I hoist her upward until she’s got a good grip and pulls herself onto the room. She hops to her feet nimbly, and I see her make her way to where the antenna is currently at a 45-degree angle.

Rey messes with it for about twenty minutes, tightening screws and using the pliers to tug wires back into place until the apparatus is upright again and all is secure. She is agile as a deer as she scurries back to where I’m standing, and she calls down to me. “Catch!”

I hold up my arms, and as she eases her legs over the edge of the roof. I catch her ankles, then her knees, and then I support her by the hips as she slides off the roof fully and down into my arms. I grunt putting her down, and I realize that my heart has been racing the whole time she’s been up there.

“How often do you do that?”

She shrugs, brushing her hands off. “Whenever there’s a thunderstorm or a windstorm. I’ve been doing this for years. It’s a super easy fix.”

I shake my head, frowning at her. Just the thought of her scampering around on top of that roof makes me uncomfortable. “Can you… not? At least wait for me to be around, okay? In case something happens.”

Rey grumbles, heading back inside her trailer. “Ben, it’s fine! Do you approve of anything I do? You didn’t want me to box, you don’t like how I eat and you always look like you’re questioning your life choices every time I make you food, you don’t like how I live or where I work, and now you don’t like how I fix the antenna.” She doesn’t sound particularly angry with me, more exasperated.

I start to grouse back at her that it’s because all of this is potentially dangerous—perhaps not her cooking, but I have a right to be afraid when her favorite technique involves boiling things into submission--but instead I swallow the words and grab her elbow when we’re inside. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

She knows what I feel for her. She knows the thought of anything bad happening to her breaks me out in a cold sweat.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” The look she gives me is pained. “I love that you care, but it’s not easy hearing you question me. You always pick at it, like I don’t know better. I’ve been running my life for a while now, and somehow, I’m still here to talk about it.”

“I’d like to keep it that way!” I insist, pulling her closer to me for a tight hug. She’s stiff at first, then nestles into my body the way she always does, fitting so perfectly against me. “C’mon. Just promise me you’ll wait until I’m here before you go up there again. Please.”

Rey sighs and pouts melodramatically. “Fiiiine, Ben. You’re such a bossy britches.”

“I have to be bossy. You’re so damn stubborn,” I tell her with a broad grin.

The glare she gives me is totally worth it, and I kiss her cheek with a loud, triumphant smack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm. What on earth could Hux want? Forgiveness? A ceasefire? 
> 
> Remember the four food groups? That was back before the food pyramid, which was before MyPlate… 
> 
> I am so ready for these crazy kids to enjoy some time at the beach. 
> 
> Cash me ousside on da Twitter: @junkyardjeditr1


	32. winding road ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Plutt’s. Beach Trip Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday. Finally. If I can just get through this day, tomorrow I’ll leave with Ben and his parents for Myrtle Beach. I’m a little nervous about losing out on a week of income, but I’ll make it work. I’ve made a good amount of money so far this summer.

Right now, though, I think about how my bag is packed, loaded with sunscreen, plenty of shorts and tees, my old bathing suit, and the fun sun hat Rose and Paige gave to me last month. And a surprise for Ben. Just thinking of it makes me smile. I think he’ll be pleased, and I’ll get to see his face light up with one of his charmingly crooked, toothy smiles.

My day at Plutt’s doesn’t start terribly. I arrive at 7 a.m., dressed in my scrubbiest work clothes since all I’m going to do is sweat and get grease everywhere, and I sit at my workstation and begin work on a towering stack of VCRs. Plutt is already grumbling and lumbering around and checking some of the appliances at the far end of the warehouse—they looked too new to need repairs, and I vaguely wonder why they’d be in a repair center. But, as Plutt is always very quick to point out, that isn’t my concern.

It all goes to shit when the delivery truck pulls up to the bay doors. Plutt spits on the floor and jerks his hand, motioning for me to leave the work area and go to his office, so I grab my tools, not-so-secretly glad that I will get a brief respite in his filthy, cluttered office. Plutt put a window AC unit in there, and even though it smells like mold, it’s better than the hot warehouse.

Plutt hustles to the bay doors, and when the drivers climb down from the cab of their truck, it doesn’t take long before the shouting starts. They’re wiry men in coveralls, with scruffy hair and ballcaps pulled low on their heads. They’d seem clean-cut enough, but the looks on their faces are hard.

I quickly lock myself in Plutt’s office, and I peek through the blinds to watch. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s hard not to.

Whatever the drivers are talking about with Plutt, it’s serious. Plutt’s waving his arms and pointing at the appliances, then the shelves of electronics I’ve fixed up over the last couple weeks. One driver approaches him and shove him in the chest, nearly sending the large man toppling over, but the other starts walking purposefully toward Plutt’s office.

Oh shit.

My stomach drops, and I back up from the window. The door is locked. I remind myself again that the door is locked.

The driver starts pounding on the door.

“Get out here! Plutt ain’t gonna listen, so maybe you will!”

The office is tiny, and I’ve got nowhere to go. I push Plutt’s sagging desk chair in front of the door, followed by his desk, and I keep quiet, even though I feel my heart pounding louder than the whole damn Jakku High marching band.

“Girl, are you listening? If you can’t fix the merchandise faster, the big boss ain’t gonna be happy. Time is money, babydoll, you got that?”

“That’s not my problem!” I shout back through the door, suddenly incensed. “I’m the only repair tech here!”

“It’s gonna be your problem if you can’t keep up with the quotas, babydoll.”

Quotas? What quotas?

He rattles at the doorknob a bit, and I pray for the thing to hold, and I realize my hands are shaking. _This is not a good place. This is a dangerous place._ And I realize after a moment something that I’d purposely refused to understand fully before. These must be stolen goods, and I’m just preparing them for re-sale. Shit. Not good at all.

It should have been obvious from the start, given that the first thing I have to do is scrub the serial numbers off each item with a file. I guess wherever they _acquire_ these electronics, some pieces get damaged along the way, and rather than dump everything, they bring it to Plutt to scrub up and fix for re-sale. Low-margin profits, but still a margin of profit.

After a moment I hear the driver walk away, and I hear the delivery truck leave. I stay put in the office until Plutt knocks on the door.

“Get back to work, girl. And speed it up.”

After moving all the furniture out of my way, I start to walk back to my workstation, giving Plutt a wary glance. And to think, I thought heat exhaustion was going to be the worst thing about this place.

The closer I get to my station, the slower I am. My feet will only take me so far this time. Everything here is wrong, and I can’t keep doing this. Ben was right. Damn it.

“Mr. Plutt?”

He grunts at me.

“I think you need to hire another tech. I quit.”

Plutt marches over to my station and puts his swollen dirty hands on the tabletop and glares at me. “You said you could do this work, girl.”

I glare back at him, my fear from earlier evaporating. I might be afraid of those drivers and their boss, but Unkar Plutt is just a blob of a jerk. “And I can—but there’s more than one person can do, and I’m not waiting around for the drivers to come back.”

“Ya either want this job or ya don’t,” he snorts. “But you don’t get paid unless you work.”

I slam my hand down on the tabletop in front of him, feeling anger rip through my nerves. “I get paid for the work I’ve done, or I’m calling the cops.”

Oh, he doesn’t like that. Plutt lunges for me suddenly, but I skitter away from him quickly, glad for the defensive footwork Ben’s been teaching me. I’m well-balanced and ready to move in any direction I need to go to keep myself safe.

Plutt’s red-faced and sweating terribly, and he rounds the table, staggering. He’s uneven on his feet, and I watch him brace himself on his knees. There’s no way he’s going to try attack me again. He’s too hot, and he looks like he’s going to pass out. I eye my bottle of Gatorade on the table. He should probably drink that. 

“You owe me at least $1300 for the work I’ve done this month, Mr. Plutt,” I shout at him.

“Fuck off, girl,” he groans. “You’re not getting shit. I don’t got the cash, and if you ain’t gonna fix this garbage, it’s not coming.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. I need that money. I can’t let three weeks’ worth of work go to waste. And I can’t work here, either. Panic rises in my stomach, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I continue to back away towards the exit.

Plutt glares at me with bloodshot eyes. “You walk out now, you ain’t coming back here, girl.”

What I want to do is sweep the whole stack of VCRs I was supposed to fix onto the ground and listen to them break apart on the warehouse’s concrete floor. Instead, I run. My hands are shaking, and I don’t know if it’s from fear, anger, or panic. I just need to get the hell out of here.

+++

It’s less than three hours to Myrtle Beach. I can scarcely believe I’ve never been when it was so close this whole time. When I can drive, legally, I’m going to the beach every chance I get. Every glimpse I have of the deep blue waves beyond the hotels and high rises is thrilling, and I try not to press my whole face against the car window.

Ben’s next to me, resting his chin on my shoulder, watching the beach and ocean as we drive by.

He hadn’t been pleased last night when I’d called him after his shift at the commissary. He’d wanted to come over immediately, but I’d told him not to—I thought him running out of his parents’ house to see me when we’d be seeing each other in the morning would seem odd. Well, Ben hadn’t liked that, and he’d huffed and shouted over the phone, demanding that I swear to never step one foot at Plutt’s ever again. I’d been frustrated by the time we hung up. I’d made my choice when I’d walked out of the warehouse, but Ben wasn’t listening. He wanted to yell.

At least when he and his parents had arrived to pick me up, he seemed to be past his outrage and greeted me with a smile and hug. When he’d reached for my hand, letting his fingertips brush against mine briefly, and I looked up into his dark honey eyes, I could see an apology. I squeezed his hand, and he laced his fingers through mine, and I couldn’t help but give him a smile. In response, he mouthed, _“I’m sorry,”_ at me and kissed the back of my hand.

At any rate, thoughts of the previous day are quickly drowned out by Han and Leia’s musical selections, which range from catchy songs from The Mamas and The Papas to some highly questionable 80s hair band music. Whitesnake? Really? Leia’s enthusiastic, and she can really carry a tune, but Han’s singing is terribly off-key, and Ben is heaving sighs of despair next to me, and I’m laughing when I’m not singing along to the songs I know. Ben eventually sings, too, wonderfully off-key in his deep voice.

When we haul through the door of the condo, I’m astonished. I’ve never even stayed in a hotel before, let alone a place like this. Downstairs, there’s a huge pool area and a private boardwalk that leads out onto the beach with a vast expanse of lounge chairs and umbrellas. Here in the condo, there’s a small kitchen with a breakfast island and a separate dining area. Beyond that, there’s a big living area, with a couch and armchairs, and a large TV. To my right, there’s the master bedroom and bathroom, and to the left another bedroom and adjoining door, that I guess is another bathroom. At the edge of the living area, there are sliding glass doors that open out onto a balcony, and from there, I can see the Atlantic Ocean.

Han drags his and Leia’s bags into the master, and Leia turns to Ben and me as she sets her purse and sunglasses down on the dining table. Her expression is somehow full of both motherly amusement and admonition as she holds up a hand, and we automatically freeze in place.

We glance sidelong at each other, then back to Leia.

She dives right in. No preamble. Per usual. “Han and I debated your sleeping arrangements. We’ve landed on the idea that ultimately, it’s up to you two. We trust you to do what’s right for you. You can either share the second bedroom, or Ben can sleep on the pullout couch in the living room. You’ll have to share the bathroom, regardless.”

Her next look is very pointed at Ben. “Ben, a girl’s privacy is a sacred thing, do you understand?”

Ben turns red. I’ve never seen his ears burn like that. My face feels hot, so I’m sure I’m a matching shade, as well. It gets worse, however, because Leia keeps speaking.

“If you two wish to do, err, private things together, please be discreet. Don’t give us old folks a heart attack. We’re progressive but fragile. You got that?”

Ben and I nod, studiously not making eye contact with Leia or each other. The pattern on the carpet sure is interesting. Leia holds back a snorty little laugh as if some malevolent corner of her soul has particularly enjoyed this, and she goes to see what Han is up to in the master. After she’s out of sight, Ben dumps his bag just outside the bedroom door, but carries mine inside for me, and I trail after him.

“Are you going to sleep in the living room?” I ask, frowning at his bag before looking back at him. I don’t know how I feel, suddenly, openly acknowledging the more personal side of our relationship in front of his parents. I mean, Leia knows we had _plans_ , and she paid for my implant, but this seems more open than either of us had dared to hope for.

It suddenly feels very public, and I feel a pulse of anxiety. Do they not see this as a big deal? Or as a very big deal? It feels like a big deal to me, having our relationship acknowledged in this way.

“Um. That’s up to you,” he says softly. “If you don’t want to because you’re embarrassed around my parents, it’s okay. I know you like to be private about this stuff.”

The understatement of the century…

“…are you embarrassed?” I ask before stepping further into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. A large bed. Far larger than the little twin bed in my trailer. Ben’s big feet might not even hang over the edge of this one, I think.

“It’s kind of awkward.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and studies his shoes. His shoulders seem hunched, like he’s trying to make himself smaller. “Leave it to my mom to be a total boner killer while simultaneously giving me permission to shack up with you. This might be her finest hour.”

I snort at that and lay back. God, this bed is soft. Far softer than mine.

“I think it shows how much they trust us.”

That word. Trust. A ghost of something sad flickers on Ben’s face.

“And I think they don’t care as long as we don’t make out in front of them or anything.”

“So, yeah? It’s okay with you?” Ben asks hesitantly, even a sudden hint of optimism breaks through his mortification.

I roll onto my stomach and grin at him. He looks as shy and uncertain as the first time he kissed me, and then a slow smile crosses his face. I feel like we just crossed some bridge I didn’t even know we were on.

“We’ll just need to be, you know, dignified.”

He barks a laugh at that and launches himself onto the bed next to me, rolling me into a hug, his big body wrapping me so tight I can scarcely breathe.

“I’m going to dignify you so hard,” he whispers in my ear, then kisses me on the cheek, before heaving off the bed to retrieve his bag. “C’mon. Let’s go down to the beach.”

Sounds like a good idea to me.

+++

Ben takes his mother’s admonishment that girls require privacy to heart, and I change into my bathing suit in the bathroom while he changes in the bedroom.

We grab towels and sunscreen and shout to Han and Leia that we’re going to beach, and they wave us off saying they’ll look for us later. From the look in their eyes, I think they’re about to be very dignified. Good lord. Ben looks just as alarmed as I do, and I’ve rarely seen him move that fast.

The ocean is amazing. Vast. Cold. Dark. Light. Peaceful. Violent. I can’t believe how cold it is when Ben and I race into the waves after each other. I don’t know what I expected, but all the shards of shells that have been knocked into the shallows by the waves are sharp underfoot, and the first wave crashing into my legs nearly takes me out, and I stagger backwards into the churning water. Ben comes back for me, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.

“It’s so cold!”

My skin has already turned to gooseflesh, and it’s only been a minute.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Eventually, I do. With Ben’s guidance, I learn how to time jumping _with_ the waves so I don’t get walloped, and we wade out where there are swells, rather than fight through the breaks. We float each other, bobbing over the swells peacefully. When something brushes against my foot, I squeal and climb Ben’s back like a koala, making him laugh.

“That was probably seaweed. Or maybe a fish.”

“You don’t know for sure? That’s not comforting!” I declare. But I do see a clump of some kind of oceanic vegetation—kelp? seaweed?—and I reach out to scoop it up for closer examination. It’s vaguely slimy and green and brown, and I dangle it in front of Ben before dropping it back in the water.

“So, um, about yesterday…” I hear the hesitation in his voice, and I feel his hands brush over the tops of my feet where they crisscross around his hips. I rest my chin on his shoulder and kiss his cheek.

He sighs, and I can feel his shoulders tense as he tries to master himself before speaking.

“You’re really done working at Plutt’s? I don’t want you going back there.”

I sigh. “I told you, I’m never going back. I wish I could get the money he owes me, but I’m not going to risk it.”

“Alright then.”

“Alright then?” That’s it? “After all the shouting you did yesterday, there’s nothing else you want to say?”

“Nope. Unless you want me to scold you about how that place was no good for you, and how you’re stubborn and going to get yourself hurt one of these days. I can keep going, if you like.” His voice is wry, but there’s a teasing note, too.

He’s not wrong. I’ve been pigheaded about making money at a place filled with red flags. But Ben’s never been hungry or wondered how he’d pay for a new pair of shoes. Ben’s never worried about becoming homeless. Ben’s never worried about losing the right to determine the shape of his life.

“I’ve heard all that before.”

“Because you’re _stubborn_. I am sorry I yelled at you, but I freaked out when you told me you were threatened. You don’t know what that did to me, hearing what they said to you.”

“Ben.” I lean my head against his placatingly, and I enjoy the way the ocean swells lift and drop us as one. “What am I going to do now?”

Ben tugs at my arms and I slide off his back so he can turn to face me. He gently my cheek and kisses me, tasting of salt and sunscreen.

“We’ll figure something out. There are other jobs. I’ll help you, no matter what.” He sounds more resolute now, like he’s half-formed some plan in his mind already.

I hug him tightly, and he twirls me through the water.

The longer Ben is involved with my fragile little world, the more decisive he is in how I should manage it, a realization that worries me. He shouldn’t be living this weird lie with me, even if there’s still a bittersweet comfort in knowing that he’s with me. My heart aches for him, for the person he is, for the person he’s trying to be.

The rest of the day is blissful. Han runs to get groceries for the week, and Leia lounges by the pool, reading a paperback book, dressed in a loose caftan and floppy-brimmed sunhat and large sunglasses. She looks decadent and at her ease as Ben and I lounge on floats in the pool, splashing each other and racing each other from one side of the pool to the other.

We share a basket of fries from the snack bar, and Ben sighs mournfully as I drizzle ketchup across all the fries, coating them thoroughly. Leia somehow manifests a very fruity umbrella-embellished drink. She smacks my hand when I try to sneak a sip, and Ben and I scamper away, laughing.

“Wrong parent,” he murmurs in my ear. “You want a beer, you’ve gotta talk to my dad. If you’re lucky, Mom will let you have half a glass of wine on a special occasion.”

When we’re all thoroughly tired from being out in the sun, Han makes tacos for dinner back at the condo, and he lets me help dice tomatoes, grate cheese, and make guacamole in the kitchen after failing to shoo me away. He’s a good teacher, and he tells me funny stories about when Ben was a little boy that make Ben roll his eyes from across the living room, where he’s doing a crossword puzzle with Leia.

“See that tall fella over there?” Han asks teasingly, motioning towards Ben. “Always running around naked. Couldn’t keep pants on him to save our lives. Now, Leia was just a Captain and she’d invited some people in her chain of command over for dinner. She was up for promotion to Major, you see.”

I nodded slightly, grinning at my glaring boyfriend.

“Well, dinner was goin’ great. We’d been pouring plenty of drinks, and my pot roast came out good, and everyone was having a fine time. Then we hear footsteps, and before we can catch him, Ben runs right through the dining room, stark naked, wearing a Superman cape. He’s always been fast, and it took a lap or two before Leia was able to get a hold of him and wrestle him back upstairs to his bed. Oooh, he was mad about that. Squalled the whole way.”

I can’t help but giggle at the mental image of Ben sprinting around a table of Army officers completely naked. Ben grumbles, coming over to lean over the kitchen counter to see if there’s anything good to eat yet.

“I wasn’t naked. I had on a cape,” Ben quips before kissing my cheek and stealing a pinch of shredded cheese.

Han just grins, and I feel such a burst of affection for him. Even when he grumbles about my determination to take care of the dishes after dinner, I just smile at him and shrug, reveling in the little pat on the shoulder he gives me.

The Solos have tons of plans for the week beyond just lounging and reading by the pool and splashing around in the ocean. There’s talk of mini golf, the aquarium, the boardwalk, and maybe a couple nice dinners out.

Leia beams and tells me she’ll take me shopping if I don’t have a dinner dress, which makes me gulp and look at Ben with no small amount of panic. I don’t _want_ a dress. I _hate_ shopping. Especially when someone else is buying.

Ben gives me a sympathetic glance, and I wonder if he’s going to intervene on my behalf, or if he even can. Leia is Leia, after all. She’s wonderful, but terrifying. Han speaks up before Ben can plead my case.

“Now, wait a minute,” Han grouses. “How nice we talkin’ about here? Do I have to wear clean pants?”

Leia gives him the look to end all looks, and I desperately hope Han can talk her down from whatever her idea of “nice” is on a casual beach vacation. I’m only fit to dine at places that accept disheveled teenagers in ratty shorts and tees. _Please, Han, win a round!_

Leia grabs my hand fondly, clearly assuming I’m on her side, and she directs a stern glance at Han and Ben. “Rey and I are getting dolled up. And you two are taking us to dinner. And that is final.”

“Oh, Leia, I don’t know…” I murmur. “If Ben and Han don’t--”

“Good! Then it’s settled.” Leia smiles triumphantly.

+++

I wake up to Ben’s lips nuzzling the back of my neck, and I exhale a breathy sigh, enjoying how soft and warm they are. It’s an hour before daybreak, and I don’t see any hints of light from where the curtains gap over the sliding glass doors that lead onto the balcony.

“Mmm. You smell nice,” he murmurs.

“Mornin’, Ben,” I whisper, stretching slightly, and shifting onto my back so I can smile drowsily up at him. We’d stayed up late with Han and Leia watching an old movie on TV, then sat out on the balcony listening to the roar of the ocean waves until I’d fallen asleep in my chair, only waking as Ben was scooping me up to get me to bed. I don’t even remember undressing and putting on my pajamas.

His lips meet mine in one warm, lingering kiss after another as his hand moves up under my top to cup a breast, his thumb teasing over the nipple, featherlight. I feel boneless and content to let him touch me, and I make a pleased little noise into his mouth. I snuggle closer into him, brushing my hand over his side, enjoying the firm topography of his well-built body.

Ben’s hair is tumbled from sleep, and his eyes are hazy with desire, even if he still seems half-asleep himself. There’s a part of him that isn’t, however, and I feel his cock, already hard against my hip as his kisses deepen.

“So beautiful, so good…” he breathes before moving his hand to my other breast. I shiver, as much from his words as his touch, and I nip at his lower lip. I slide my hand over his muscular backside, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

His inquisitive fingers slide south on my body, slipping down the front of my pajama shorts, and he circles his index finger around my clit delicately.

“Pretty here, too…” he sighs, moving his lips to my neck, nipping at the soft skin.

“Mmm,” I breathe, feeling a little shiver course through me.

My eyes drift closed as his fingers stroke over my delicate folds, and I sigh, letting my hand drift up to the back of his neck and curl into his shaggy hair. So early in the morning, so soon after waking, this feels like a dream. His finger traces the seam of my sex and dips between the folds, and he groans into my neck.

“You’re wet.” He gently slides his thick finger into me, slowly, leisurely, and I push against his hand, driven by instinct, loving the intrusion. My inner muscles clench, and I whimper against his temple.

“How are you so wet?” he asks rhetorically, lifting his head to give me a hungry kiss. His kiss is plush, warm lips, nipping teeth, and a low, rumbly sound that I know well will lead to more.

When I feel him rutting slowly against my hip, I make a small, needy sound, and Ben carefully slides his finger from me. I lift my hips so he can pull off my pajama shorts and throw them aside. He pushes his boxers down before settling his body on top of me, big hands sliding over my thighs reverently. My hands smooth over his back, and I mouth at his shoulder and neck, reveling in the slightly salty taste of him and the warm weight of his body. He smells like soap and boy and his slightly spicy deodorant, and it’s intoxicating.

Ben shifts his hips, sliding his cock between my folds, lubricating himself with my arousal, and when I moan, he brushes his thumb over my mouth, whispering in my ear. “Shhhhh. We need to be quiet.”

I close my lips around his thumb and suck briefly, and I feel him shudder. Ben slips his arm under my knee to pull my leg higher, opening me more to him as he notches the thick head of his cock against my core and begins to press inside me.

As always, Ben’s cock is a tight fit, and my inner muscles strain to accommodate him, and I gasp as quietly as I can against his neck. He huffs a shaky breath. Usually he lets me come on his tongue or fingers first so he can push into me easily, but this morning he thrusts carefully, gently working me open until he’s fully hilted.

I’m trembling beneath him from the effort of not moaning out loud, from the way he feels like steel inside me, and my hands clutch at his back, holding onto him desperately as if I’ll lose myself entirely if I let go of him.

Ben pulls his hips back and thrusts into me in a long, smooth stroke, and from the tension in his arms and the slightly strangled noise he makes in his throat, I know he’s having a hard time not shouting and growling the way he does when we’re alone in my trailer. Ben loves to talk and moan and be heard when we have sex. And I love to hear it.

“I love how wet and soft you are,” he mumbles as he brings his lips close to my ear. “Nice and wet and ready for my cock. You’re so good for me, Rey.”

I love being good for Ben, and his whispered words and the still, quiet room pull me into an otherworldly state as he begins to thrust in smooth, steady stokes. I roll my hips to meet his, arching my back and closing my eyes as I give over to the sensations.

I pull my legs higher, crossing my ankles daintily over the small of his back, letting Ben stroke deeper into me, and he can’t help but shiver and groan, loud enough that I go, “Shhhhhh,” and we both laugh. For that, Ben nips at my jaw and begins to pump into me more intently. I bury my face in the curve of his neck to keep from crying out in pleasure, and I begin to feel the coiling heat inside me build like a wildfire, eventually burning out of control until I shudder violently under him, lost to all coherent thought.

Ben’s thrusts become ragged and artless after that, and I hear him gasp into the pillows as he bucks into me jerkily a few more times, his whole body sweaty and shivery as he comes in hot bursts deep inside me. He tries to hold himself off me, but he collapses heavily on top of me, his spend dripping out of me as he withdraws.

We breathe together, kissing gently, and I sigh back into the soft pillows and mattress, pleasantly pinned by his mass.

“I’ve always wanted to have sex with you when you were all sleepy and soft in the morning” Ben whispers to me as I snuggle into his warmth. He kisses the top of my head, and he strokes his thumbs delicately over my cheeks as he cups my face.

“Some people just say good morning,” I tease.

“They’re missing out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES, I brought drama to the beach trip. You should know by now that I have a “tears first, then sex” policy in my fanfic.
> 
> And YES, Leia wears caftans and sunhats and can manifest tropical drinks whenever and wherever she damn well pleases. It’s her modern AU Jedi power.
> 
> I stg, this fic is going to end up being 50 damn chapters at the rate I’m going. I’m sorry if you’re sick of me and my verbosity!


	33. emergency signal ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Family beach day. Dreams. A gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two days into the beach trip, Rey and I have established a morning routine. I kiss and nuzzle Rey awake and we have slow, drowsy sex before the sun comes up. That first moment when I slide into her chases away any remnants of the increasingly frequent, strange dreams that leave me uneasy.

After, we watch the sunrise from the balcony, and I kiss Rey, trying to quiet the feeling that if I let her go, she’ll disappear. The only thing that seems to calm my fear is having her close.

When the beach is golden in the early morning light, I put on a pot of coffee for my parents, and we head down to start our morning run. I love smelling the salt air and feeling the spray of the ocean mist as we race on the hard, wet sand. Rey looks so lively, so ebullient, and the bronze of her tan is deepening with each passing day.

“How does Poe keep up with you? He’s not much taller than me!” she gasps when we stop, planting her hands on her knees to catch her breath before we turn back.

We walk on our way back to the high-rise condo, stopping to chase flocks of gulls and pick up interesting shells. Yesterday, Rey accidentally stepped on a crab buried in the sand yesterday, and it pinched her big toe. I scooped her up in my arms as she howled dramatically, marched heroically for about twenty feet, then detoured to drop her into the cold waves, telling her the salt water would do her good. She’d chased me back down the beach after that, but I eventually let her catch me.

“I run slow for him, too,” I tell her with a grin, and she makes a face at me.

When I stretch, I catch Rey eyeing my body with interest. When I catch her eye, she blushes a deep red. Living together and sleeping together hasn’t diminished our thirst for one another. My fingers twitch eagerly at the mere thought of touching her.

Yesterday afternoon, while my parents are dozing on lounge chairs under red-and-white striped beach umbrellas, we stole back up to the condo, where we nipped and licked and pawed at each other until we were both gasping with pleasure. I love to growl aggressive, possessive things in her ear, pinning her hands above her head as I thrust hard into her soft, tight body while she cries out happily underneath me. Afterwards, Rey tells me she loves it, too.

She was shy at first, acknowledging this fierce wanting between us. Sex hadn’t been good for her before, and then she’d been made to feel so ashamed and humiliated. But over the past month, her confidence has grown, along with her trust in me. Any nervousness I ever had has disappeared completely. Everything with her feels right, and I’m always hungry for her.

+++

After an evening of miniature golf the night before, my parents declare that today will be a family beach day.

Mom and Dad had utterly destroyed us in mini-golf. Their skill on the ridiculous putting greens with the large castles and windmills and pirate ships was unfathomably good. At the end, when they collected their prize from the check-in desk—neon green sunglasses and matching party beads, which they proceeded to put on immediately—Dad grinned and told me that one key way to network in the Army is by playing golf. He and Mom had apparently networked a lot.

By the time we pack a cooler full of drinks and sandwiches and chips to drag down with us onto the sand, Mom’s already in caftan mode. When I tell her she looks like one of the Golden Girls, she lifts her chin haughtily and puts on her sunglasses and sunhat. She clearly won’t dignify that with a response.

“I think she looks glamorous, like a movie star!” Rey declares, shaking a finger at me, which makes Mom laugh.

I’ve noticed that she and Rey are getting closer on this trip. Last night they’d teamed up while playing cards with Dad and me, giggling wickedly as they meted out one defeat after another until Dad groaned, and said he was going to need a beer to cope with the shame of losing.

The day passes quietly, all rushing waves and gulls and the sound of kids running and screaming up and down the beach splashing in water. Dad and I play with boogie boards in the surf, and Rey challenges my dad to a game of paddle ball. Mom works her crossword puzzles when she’s not splashing with Dad in the waves.

When the shoulder strap of Rey’s bathing suit breaks while we’re wrestling in the water, she squeals and runs straight for my mother. Mom’s already reaching into her beach bag and motioning for Rey to sit at her feet by the time I catch up. I find a spot under the umbrella and help myself to a sandwich.

“I’ve only got a hair tie, but it should hold.” Rey holds her hair aside, and mom somehow uses the hair tie to secure the broken straps. “You’re going to need a new bathing suit.”

Rey considers for a moment, then shakes her head. “If you have needle and thread at the condo, I can fix it up enough to hold for the rest of the week.”

Mom makes a disapproving noise. “It’s fine for today, but I think we can do a little better than that. We can pop out to the store tomorrow so you can get another one. We still need to get you something to wear to dinner, anyway.”

Uh oh. Rey glances at me, and I can see the panic writ large in her expressive eyes.

“Mom, do we really have to get all dressed up?” I cut in.

Mom waves her hand. “Ben, you and your father act like I’m dragging you to a white tie event. All I want is for you to wear collared shirts and shoes that haven’t got mud on them. I thought it would make for a nice picture at the very least.”

“I can wait until I get back to Jakku for another bathing suit,” Rey insists. “It’s not so bad. I’ll wear a tee shirt over it just in case.”

Rey gets an unladylike snort from my mother. “It can’t wait. This bathing suit should have been retired a year ago.”

Rey’s face falls, and she tries to mask her expression, but it’s too late. My mom’s curious eyes see all, know all.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

I blurt out the first thing that crosses my mind. “Rey lost her job, Mom. She can’t go shopping.”

Rey blanches white, and her mouth drops open in horror. We hadn’t talked about what we’d say to my parents if anything at all, and now I’ve embarrassed her badly. So that was a misfire. Epic misfire. It’s all on fire now.

Mom looks at me in surprise, and I see her eyes narrow thoughtfully for a second, as if to ask me what else I haven’t told her. My turkey and provolone sandwich is suddenly fascinating, and I take a big bite so I won’t have to talk for at least a minute of two.

“Rey, honey, what happened?” Her voice is gentle, and Rey looks down at her sandy feet.

“I quit. The hours were too long, and I was tired all the time.” Well that’s not a lie, at least. “I’ll get another job when I get back to Jakku. It’s fine.”

There’s a long beat of silence, and I know my mom is weighing her words carefully. I’m surprised when she doesn’t ask for more details. For once, she’s not bulldozing.

“When I said I wanted to take you shopping, sweetheart, I intended that it would be my treat. I never meant otherwise,” Mom says soothingly, and she tweaks a lock of Rey’s hair, grown unruly from a day spent running around outside and the salt water. My mother’s fingers gently untangle Rey’s hair, and I’m surprised to see Rey closing her eyes and relaxing into it. I would have thought she’d have continued arguing.

Then again, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. Rey doesn’t talk about it much, but I know she’s lonely for Maz.

Mom weaves Rey’s hair into a neat braid and kisses the top of her head.

“There you go. That’ll keep your hair out of your face while you and Ben chase each other around like a couple of puppies.”

+++

“Ben.”

I glance up from my book, _The Things They Carried_ from the school’s summer reading list. I’m sprawled on the couch, and Mom’s outside on the balcony drinking a glass of wine and enjoying the night air. Dad looks a little sunburnt, even after Mom pestering him to wear a hat and reapply sunscreen all day. Rey’s indulging in a bubble bath, relishing the size of the bathtub compared to her little tub at home.

“Why don’t you come sit outside and talk to your mother and me.”

Fuck. Interrogation incoming, and all because of my fat, stupid mouth earlier today. When Rey and I had finally stolen a few minutes alone, she’d been frustrated. I’d kissed some apologies onto her soft mouth, and she’d forgiven me, but the fact remained that I’d shared the information without her permission. And now, just as she feared, my parents were alert.

I follow Dad out onto the balcony and slump into a chair. Dad leans against the balcony with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell us Rey lost her job?”

I shrug. “She said it wasn’t a big deal. She’s going to find something else when we get back to Jakku. It just happened Friday.”

Mom hums a thoughtful noise from her lounge chair and sips from her wine glass. I’m surprised she doesn’t say anything. I don’t know if this is going to be better or worse.

Dad continues, and from the stern note in his voice, he is dissatisfied with my answer. “Rey’s income—she uses it to help support herself and Maz?”

“Um, yeah. She says she likes to help as much as she can. Teedo raised the rent this year, and Maz is on social security, so…”

Dad grunts an unhappy sound. “Poor kid. She shouldn’t be worrying about stuff like that.”

The chair isn’t uncomfortable, but I am, and I shift awkwardly, suddenly feeling like I’ve got too many elbows and knees and too much leg, and maybe I should get the hell out of here. Rey would have a fit knowing we were out here discussing her finances like this.

“You know Rey. She doesn’t mind. She’s saving up for school things, too. Lab fees for science, calculator rental for math.”

“Ben, does she need help?” My mother’s voice is soft as she finally weighs in. “I’ve asked her before, but I think we all know how proud Rey is. When’s the last time that girl had a new pair of shoes?”

I have a sudden vision of how she looked the first time I saw her. The frayed neckline on her tee shirt, the torn jeans, and dilapidated sneakers. I’d just thought she was one of the rare kids still committed to the grunge look, worshipping at the altar of Kurt Cobain. She’d been so startlingly pretty with her freckles and her hazel eyes, I hadn’t realized that what I was really seeing was a girl on the edge.

“She can’t help being poor,” I mutter. “It’s not a crime. And she doesn’t deserve for us to talk about it behind her back. Do you know how embarrassed she’d be right now?”

“If we can do something for her, you need to let us know.” Mom’s voice is gentle, but firm. I want so badly to tell them everything. But it’s the last thing Rey wants. “

“She doesn’t want handouts. It makes her feel bad.” I think back to her despair after visiting the mall with Paige and Rose. Apprehension ripples through me at the thought of her having a similar experience with my mother. But at least my mother isn’t oblivious. I don’t think she’d hurt Rey, even unintentionally.

“What does she need most?”

“She needs another job. A good one where she won’t have to sit in the heat all day, and where the manager won’t yell at her.” And where stolen goods aren’t being moved, and where creepy men don’t threaten her. “She doesn’t care how much it pays, as long as it’s steady.”

Dad looks thoughtful for a long moment. “I can ask around. I know some people.”

Mom chimes in. “In the meantime, I’m taking her shopping for some new clothes. And you can keep sending her home with extra groceries, Benny.” She squeezes my arm affectionately.

…I’d thought I was a lot slicker than that. Not that it should surprise me that my mother would notice. I smile sheepishly. “Sorry. I should have asked.”

“You never have to ask to feed a hungry friend.” Mom sets down her wine glass, and the next thing I know, she’s on her feet, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, hugging me close. “You’ve got such a big heart, Ben. I’m proud of the man you’re becoming. But don’t grow up too fast, okay? Don’t forget you have a mom and dad who want to help you. You’re still my sweet, little boy, after all.”

She ruffles my hair, and my dad stands closer to give my shoulder a squeeze. “Not so little, and not always that sweet, but you’re still a good kid, Ben.”

His smirk is good-natured. “Most of the time.”

+++

Dad and I sit up late, and he tosses me a can of beer with a wry grin. Mom and Rey have already gone to bed. We sit quietly, listening to the ocean, sipping the cold beer. I like these moments with my father. Silence between us used to be this aching, heavy thing that would break loose in stormy words and slamming doors. Now there’s peace. If words come, even frustrated ones, they’re tempered with far kinder feelings.

“So what are you thinking, Benny? Going to be a college man next year? You’ll be the first Solo to go.”

“Yeah. I guess so. Um, about that. I’m thinking of staying in North Carolina. You know. In-state tuition and all that.”

Mom had mentioned I might try for schools as far as California or even New York. She wants me to feel free to explore my dreams, even if I don’t exactly know what they are. I know Mom went to Vassar, and I feel like she’s going to be disappointed if I don’t go somewhere genteel and polished like she did.

Dad gives me a canny look and sips his beer. “There are some great schools here. You can go wherever you like… as long as they’ll take you.” He laughs slightly, and I roll my eyes. “Can I give you some unwanted advice?”

I sigh and nod.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

I snort. “That leaves a lot to interpretation.”

Dad smirks and stands up. “Sure does. But I find it’s a good rule of thumb.”

+++

_I’m shouting her name, but she can’t hear me. Her body is still, motionless, and I’m running toward her, but my feet won’t take me where I want to go. I know if I can get to her, she’ll wake up._

_There’s a hand grabbing my arm, pulling me back, and I hear a voice telling me to let go. Let go. Because I’m sinking. My feet are sinking into mud? Quicksand? When I look up from my feet, Rey is gone. It’s like she was never there at all._

I wake with a lurch, and I automatically reach out to touch Rey, my fingers skimming over her arm. She makes a little grumbly noise in her sleep. Okay. She’s here. I’m here. My heart’s racing, and I try to lay back and breathe. I haven’t had such vivid dreams in months, not since early in the year, after leaving Chandrila. The dread. The inertia.

I feel clammy and overheated, and I slide to the edge of the bed. I’m sweating. Rey likes to call me her furnace because I tend to run hot, but I usually don’t wake up sweating like this. I glance back at Rey, who is sprawled inelegantly. She’s quickly adapted to life in a larger bed, that’s for sure. It’s still dark out, but I slip out of bed and onto the balcony, trying to be quiet. I brace my hands on the railing and lean into the warm ocean breeze, and I listen to the dark, churning ocean until I can find my calm.

I don’t know how long I’m out there when the sliding door opens, startling me, I’ve been so lost in thought. When I turn, I’m not surprised to see Rey, looking sleepy and confused. I give her a slow, tender smile.

“There’s my girl.”

I gather her in my arms, holding her little body in front of me, and together we breathe in deeply the humid, salty air. It feels pleasantly sticky.

“How long have you been out here?”

“Maybe an hour. Trouble sleeping.” I tighten my arms around her and sway, kissing the side of her head. 

“Something on your mind?”

He laughs slightly. “Everything’s on my mind. The SAT. College. You. How am I supposed to be happy knowing I only have one year left in Jakku? And you—you’re a whole lot of trouble, you know that?”

I’m trying to joke my way out of this mood, but it’s not a natural thing. Usually, it takes Rey coaxing me and reassuring me with her gentle, teasing words or her soft, clever hands. She nestles into me slightly.

“I’m sorry. I tried to warn you. But you’re a stubborn boy who doesn’t listen.”

Rey turns in my arms and slips her arms around my waist. “This whole thing is starting to eat you up.”

Her eyebrows knight together in concern. She’s not wrong. I feel like my whole life is worrying about her, feeling guilty about lying to my parents, and somehow trying to find the time in between to get ready for college and be a normal teenager. At least I’m not thinking about Chandrila anymore.

“I had a strange dream about you,” I tell her abruptly, rubbing my hands on her back. I can feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her tank top.

Rey quirks an eyebrow, and she gives me a little pat letting me know to go on. I’m reluctant, but she needs to hear it. I want her to hear it.

“You were lying still, sleeping, I think, and I kept shouting at you, but you couldn’t wake up. I kept trying to get to you, but eventually you just disappeared.” My voice hitches on the last word, and I hold her so tight she gasps a little. “I couldn’t handle losing you, Rey.”

Her voice is quiet. “I’m dragging you down. This… this isn’t good for you. I’m turning you into a liar, and I can tell how much you hate it.”

I see the quiet despair in her eyes, and I shake my head. “I can handle it. I do hate lying, but… it’s not forever. It’s for you--I can’t imagine my life without you. The other stuff, it’s just… it’s just details. I can take care of you.”

“But who’s taking care of you, Ben?” She reaches a delicate hand up to cup my cheek. I turn my face to brush my lips against her palm. “I’d take care of you if you’d let me. You always want to hear about my problems, but I want to hear yours, too. I’ll help you. With anything.”

“Sweetheart, you do… you’re the only who knows how to help me out of a mood.”

She gives a little shake of her head, and I see that determined look in her eyes. “Yes, but there’s so much more than that. When you hurt, I hurt—did you know that? I feel it in my heart.”

I do know. I do know that. Because it’s the same for me. We have this strange pull between us that allows us to sense each other’s moods. It’s probably because we’re so attentive to one another, but sometimes it feels like magic at work. I press a light kiss to her forehead. “What am I going to do without you next year?”

It feels impossible to contemplate, and I feel my hands tremble, even as Rey struggles to withhold an unhappy noise deep in her chest.

After a moment, Rey’s voice whispers up to me. “Can I give you something?”

I look down at her with surprise and let her take me by the hand and lead me back into our room. I sit on the edge of the bed while she opens the nightstand drawer where she’s squirreled something away.

After she places a tiny envelope in the palm of my hand, I carefully open it to find a brass key, as she stands in front of me, expression nervous. A key. I look up at her, taking in her tumbled hair and her rumpled pajamas and the little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“You can come over anytime you want. To hang out. Or check on me. Or eat fancy ramen.”

I feel such a wave of love for this girl, this wild, feral girl who, for some reason, loves me right back.

I set the key aside, and I grab her by the waist, tugging her down onto the bed with me. With each warm kiss, I feel my strange mood passing, the worrying dream receding like the tide.

“I know it’s just a little thing,” she whispers as her lips move along my jawline.

“No, it’s not.” I touch her face, tipping it up so I can look into her eyes. “This is the biggest thing you have to give—your trust.”

+++

I wake when I feel the mattress sink down slightly, and when my eyes open, I see the graceful line of Rey’s back as she towel-dries her hair. When I brush the back of my hand down the delicate track of her spine, she glances over her shoulder at me with a smile.

My parents had gone down to the pool to relax and swim this morning, but Rey and I had headed back up to the condo after a couple of hours of playing in the water. Chasing Rey around the pool deck is exhausting, but I consider it my duty in life to make her laugh and tease her into water fights. She’d spiked my dad in the back of the head with a huge, inflatable beach ball, and he’d joined me in grabbing her by the arms and legs and throwing her into the deep end as she squealed in protest.

Rey had claimed a desire for a bath and a nap after getting so much sun the last few days, and to rest up before the trial of shopping with my mother. She didn’t call it a trial, but I certainly did, taking pleasure in the way Mom’s eyes narrowed at me in annoyance.

So while I listened to her splash around in the tub, I’d fallen asleep in our bed.

“Sleepy?”

“Mmmhmm. I thought I may as well get a little rest. Dad’s taking me to the batting cages on the boardwalk while you shop with Mom.”

“I know your mom means well, but I’m really nervous about shopping with her. I’m not… I’m not really sure how to feel about this.”

Mom had announced over breakfast this morning that today’s agenda included a trip to the nearby outlet mall, and Rey had practically folded in on herself in a fit of anxiety.

“I promise, everything’s going to be okay, sweetheart. My mom hasn’t been able to do all this girl stuff in a long time, and she thinks you’re the sweet angel who turned her grumpy disaster of a son into something approximating a well-adjusted human.”

“It was hard work, but I like a challenge.” Her tone is coy, and it piques my interest.

Rey turns slightly to see me better as we speak, and I can see her slim body in profile—small breasts and slender waist. Inevitably, I feel my blood rush south, and my cock perks up. I find myself suddenly very hungry for the feel of her under me, and I grin wolfishly as I sit up and grab the towel she’s been drying her hair with and throw it across the room.

She looks at me with mild surprise that turns to amusement as I crawl out from under the covers, tearing off my tee shirt.

“Beeeen…” she says, drawing out my name, scooting back a little and wagging a finger at me as if warning me not to come closer. Her face flushes as she tries not to smile.

I say her name, but it’s more of a growl, and I shuck off my boxer shorts. My cock is already bobbing upwards, interested in what might happen next. I feint a lunge at her, making her giggle and scramble off the bed. Lightning quick, I’m off the bed and snatching her into my arms, enjoying the way she wriggles against me, laughing.

“You know I can take whatever I want,” I growl playfully in her ear, and I scoop her up before dropping her on the bed. She scoots to the middle, and I stalk across the mattress until she’s under me, her hands on my chest, and I lean down to kiss her hungrily.

Rey’s lips meet mine eagerly, and she nips my lower lip before letting me lick into her mouth. She tastes minty and fresh, and I growl again, trying and probably failing to sound menacing as I move my lips to the curve of her neck. It makes my blood race when I rake my teeth lightly over her soft skin, and I can feel my cock getting painfully hard.

She always wriggles and moans when I bite her, her fingers pressing harder into my back. When we’re together like this, I can’t help being possessive and wildly ravenous for every inch of her. She always urges me on with her little sighs and moans, and the way she arches her hips into mine when I suggestively slide my cock between her folds. She’s surprisingly wet already, and I continue to slick my length, gathering evidence of her arousal.

“Ben, please,” she says, her voice needy and breathy, and I lift off her, gently turning her onto her stomach. Rey glances over her shoulder at me in surprise, but I kiss her cheek and trail my lips to the curve of her neck, biting down gently until she whimpers.

“Mmm. Be a good girl for me,” I murmur, and I wrap an arm under her hips to pull them up to mine, knowing she trusts me to take care of her. I lean over her body, grabbing her right hand in mine and pin it to the mattress, pressing kisses across her shoulders.

She shivers and I lick the back of her neck before nipping there, bumping my hips into her ass playfully, letting my cock press heavily against her.

“Ben!” she gasps, pressing her face against the bedspread as she feels me notch myself in her entrance, nudging teasingly into her hot core.

I nip her shoulder. “I said, be _good_ …”

Her body shivers in response, and I push myself into her wet heat firmly until I bottom out. She feels impossibly tight from this angle, and I grind into her blissfully. We both groan, and as I mouth at her neck, I take her in long strokes, withdrawing almost entirely before pressing back in.

The way her tight walls flutter and squeeze me with each drag of my cock drives me wild, and as I feel the pressure tighten in my balls, I begin to pump more powerfully, making Rey mewl with pleasure. I let go of her hips and grab her other hand, leaning heavily over her as I thrust. She feels like heaven. Like every good thing in the world.

“I’m gonna come in you,” I gasp after a few moments, and with a few rough, bone-shaking thrusts, I feel lightning in my veins, and my vision blurs as I spill inside of her, crushing her slight body under mine as I shudder, rocking through the each pulse of my cock. When the tremors subside, I relax my hold on her, and we both slump onto the bedspread in a sweaty tangle.

Feeling loose-limbed satisfaction, I gently kiss her shoulder as I pull my cock out of her, and Rey rolls over to look up at me. She’s flushed and hazy.

She reaches for my face and draws me down to kiss her tenderly, her fingers brushing over my cheek and tracing my dimple, affection shining in her eyes.

“Did you like that?” I ask her, cuddling in close. I realize something then, and I feel sheepish regret. “You didn’t come…”

Rey buries her face in the curve of my neck, nuzzling sweetly, slipping an arm over my waist. “It was really good. You felt _gigantic_. You always feel _big_ , but like that…” her words drift off, and she sounds like her old, shy self.

I can’t help but grin at her words, feeling the smugness any guy feels when being told his cock is above-average, and I nudge her face from hiding in my neck with a gentle touch of my finger along her jawline. I cup her cheek with my hand, fingers practically curling around the back of her neck as I look down into her face. “Next time, I’ll make you come. Good girls deserve to come.”

I say that last bit huskily in her ear, teasingly, and she laughs, smacking my arm, blushing. I’ve noticed that when I use those words on her, Rey melts in my arms, and I love to tease her about it. I love discovering all these things that make her toes curl.

“Sometimes it’s not about that. I like the feel of you inside me… I feel happy, just being in your arms.” she says softly. “You always feel good.”

I pout playfully, touching kisses all over her face. “But I like making you come for me. You make the best sounds, and you feel incredible, and your face gets all pink and rosy…”

“Ben Solo, teenage sex god,” Rey teases. “On a quest to leave his girlfriend satisfied every time. Well guess what, Solo. I’m satisfied.”

“What does that make you? Rey Sands, teenage sex goddess? Because just looking at you makes me hard. I can’t get enough of you.” I reach down and palm her butt cheek before giving it a sharp smack.

Rey gasps then laughs happily, and she rests her head on my chest. “I’m going to miss waking up next to you when this trip is over.”

“Me, too. Maybe we can find a way to spend the night together, at least sometimes. I like you in the morning, all sweet and disheveled and cozy…”

“And I need my morning Ben,” she says pertly. “All growly and handsy and snuggly. You’ll just have to make use of that key I gave you.”

“I suppose I will.”

We hear the front door of the condo open, followed by the sound of my parents laughing and bickering happily as they walk inside the living room. After staring at each other in wide-eyed horror at knowing they would have had a heart attack just ten minutes earlier from the passionate noises we were making, we laugh quietly, kissing and disentangling ourselves.

It’s time to act normal in front of the grown-ups, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life advice from Han Solo: “Don’t do anything stupid.” FATHER OF THE YEAR, y’all!
> 
> You can find me on the Twitter, rambling about writing, Star Wars, and what DoorDash is going to bring me next: @junkyardjeditr1


	34. detour ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Beach Trip part 3. Shopping with Leia. Bad dreams lead to sweet dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben takes a shower, and after I hurriedly dress in what I consider the better of my clothes so I don’t embarrass Leia while we go out, I hang out with Han and Leia. I can’t help busying myself with cleaning up the kitchen a little and loading the dishwasher despite Han admonishing me that I don’t need to bother. He sighs when I ignore him and start washing the frying pan by hand in the kitchen sink.

“C’mon, kiddo. Take a break, will you? You don’t have to earn your keep here.”

“It’s not work--it’s dishes,” I protest.

“You’re not obligated, sweetheart. You’re our guest.” His tone is stern, and he crowds me away from the sink, forcing me to put down the frying pan.

I know Han’s trying to be kindly in his gruff way, but it feels like I’m being pushed aside from more than just doing the dishes. I’m a _guest_. I don’t know why it hurts to hear him say it. It is the truth, after all. I nod, stung. “It’s your vacation, too. I wanted to be nice.”

“Hey, it sounds like that son of mine is done with his shower. Hopefully, he left you some hot water. Why don’t you run along? I know you and Leia have a lot to accomplish at the outlet mall.”

Han casts a crooked grin at Leia, who is glaring at him from behind her newspaper.

“What I’d do now!?” he groans.

+++

“We’re going outlet shopping, not to a funeral, Rey,” Leia says, quirking an eyebrow at me.

I hadn’t resisted Leia’s agenda—goodness knows, there’s no point to trying to stop the woman whenever she’s set her mind on something—but I suppose I am rather pensive for a teenage girl about to go clothes shopping.

“I’m sorry,” I say sincerely. I know Leia means well. She always does. “I…”

I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell her. Shopping intimidates me? Fashion is an arcane language I don’t understand? I’m poor, and I don’t need to be reminded? I’m bony and nothing’s going to look good, anyway?

Leia steers the car into the outlet mall parking lot and parks. She turns to me and takes my hand. “I should have told you to bring some dinner clothes. Maybe we’ll find something else you can use. You’re a young lady, and it never hurts to have something pretty to wear.”

She’s crafty. My eyes meet hers, and I know what she’s trying to say, and I know she’s trying to give me a way to rationalize this and not feel terrible. I nod slightly. I think she and I both know that I don’t own anything that qualifies as “dinner clothes.” It would have been another borrowed outfit or two from Rose and Paige.

“Leia, I really love spending time with you, you’re the _best_ , but, um, I don’t really go shopping. It’s… um, I just don’t.”

I borrow clothes. Rose and Paige give me hand-me-downs. Bazine, when we were friends, used to give me her and her sister’s cast-offs in middle school. When I have a little money to spare, I pick over what’s at Goodwill. When Maz was alive, she had a knack for tweaking the second-hand clothes we bought so they fit a little better. I’ve never had that knack.

Her dark brown eyes move over my face, and I see the intelligence and compassion there. I feel anxious and embarrassed to admit this in front of her, and I wonder what she’s reading in my eyes.

Leia gives me a subtle smile, and she motions for me to get out of the car, even though I have the door handle in a death grip. She slips her arm through mine as she steers me toward the first in a long row of stores. I may tower over her by seven inches, but she’s fully in command.

“You know, I didn’t get to grow up with my biological mother. But my adoptive mother, she loved to take me shopping. She was always so well-dressed, so elegant. Those were some of the loveliest days we had together. Not because she was buying things, but because we were together—it gave us time to talk and enjoy each other’s company. The shopping isn’t the point, you see. And Ben, bless him, he doesn’t want to spend a day going through the mall with his mother, telling old stories and laughing at the ridiculous things stores think women should wear.”

I can imagine Ben wouldn’t want any part of that, and it makes me smile slightly.

Leia pauses with me on the sidewalk. “My mother died years ago. And it’s been difficult, admittedly, to find close female friends, given my profession. But Ben, he started dating you, and I am seizing this opportunity. After all, I’m just a selfish woman who always wanted a daughter.”

Leia gently tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re not just a guest in this family.”

+++

Leia peppers me with questions as we browse the clothing racks. She’s so confident, selecting the things she likes—she knows what colors are right for her and what cuts flatter her petite figure. She encourages me to look and see what I like, and I gravitate, predictably, toward simple, practical clothes.

I don’t have any set ideas about fashion, but I do know that I don’t want anything with sequins. Or ruffles. Or rhinestones. Or glitter. And it’s nice when things have pockets. Leia helps when I’m indecisive, or tells me the difference between things that, to my eyes, are identical. One black shirt looks a whole lot like another, I think.

She encourages me to try on lots of different clothes, and she piles things in my arms, declaring, “Every woman needs to develop a personal style. It’s good to experiment a little until you have a good idea of what looks good, and more importantly, what feels good.”

When I look in the mirror, I mostly see knobby knees and bony shoulders, so I decide I’ll just have to go with what feels good and what seems functional. Even when Leia makes me turn this way and that in the dressing room, I’m surprised at how easy it is to be doing this with her. Everything is woven through a stream of conversation that truly does make the shopping seem peripheral.

“Have you thought more about taking the SAT?” Leia asks idly, holding a green frilly dress up to me that makes me wrinkle my nose. She laughs at my expression and puts it back on the rack.

“I guess. Maybe. I looked through Ben’s study books, and the questions seemed easy enough.”

Leia quirks a brow at me. “Is that so?”

I shrug. “Yeah. I guess some of the vocabulary is weird, but the math I learned in middle school.”

“That’s right. You’re already in the same math as Ben… it’s easy for you, huh?”

Calc 2 is considered advanced for a senior. It’s rare for a junior to be taking it. And next year, I’ll have to do Calc 3 as an independent study class under Mr. Tarkin’s supervision. I suppose I don’t have to take math in my senior year, however, since Jakku High only requires three credits of math to graduate, and I’m not exactly sure about college.

“It’s okay. Math is always the same. It always makes sense.” Numbers are reliable. “After Ben takes the SAT, he said I could borrow his books, and maybe decide after studying. Is that okay?”

Leia holds a simple, A-line cream-colored dress up to me. The only embellishments are a scalloped hem, and some light blue embroidery around the neckline. I nod that I’m willing to try that one on.

“Of course. There’s the PSAT first, anyway. You could see how you do there. If you want.”

I eye a sleeveless, navy-blue dress with a bright tropical print that looks pretty but casual, and Leia plucks it off the rack, nodding with approval. It all feels like too much, but Leia’s acting like this isn’t a big deal, and when the cashier calls me her daughter, she doesn’t correct her.

A few stores later, Leia’s insisted that I get a new bathing suit, new tops, and new skirt and shorts, and even, somewhat embarrassingly, new underthings. I thought I was going to die when Leia convinced the salesgirl to get a measuring tape out so she could determine my bra size.

“I don’t have boobs!” I whispered, hunching over and crossing my arms over my chest protectively as she and the “lingerie specialist” marched me into the dressing room. I’ve always just worn a bralette or thin cotton sports bra, since I’ve never been particularly endowed. It always seemed to do the trick.

“Sweetheart, you do. My son was staring at them over breakfast.”

Sometimes I think Leia’s purpose in life is to make me squirm with embarrassment. She barely suppressed a wicked giggle as I felt the back of my neck heat, and I’m sure my face was increasingly red.

My brain scrambled and flailed, of course, finding no witty retorts of any kind.

And now, two stores later, we’re looking at shoes.

I bite my lip for a second, and I tentatively ask Leia, “Is Ben… has he said where he’s going to apply to college? Do you think he’ll go far away?”

Ben’s so burdened right now, with thoughts of the future, with my problems, with the legacy of his guilt and struggles before Jakku, that I don’t like to pick too much at him. I’m desperate to know if he’ll at least be close enough that I might be able to see him sometimes. But I don’t was to pressure him.

She purses her lips, looking over some strappy leather sandals. “Not specifically. Han says he has a mind to stay in North Carolina.” Her eyes glance sideways at me. I can’t tell if she’s happy about this or not. “I’m not going to tell Ben where to go to college. It’s his life.”

The thought Ben might stay in state gives me a pulse of hope that I try to quash. It’s too soon to get my hopes up. And Ben deserves to choose what’s best for him and not worry about me.

“Ben’s so smart. He could go to a really good school—he _should_ go—someplace interesting.” I mean it, too. If I thought for a moment Ben was holding himself back because of me, I’d hate myself. “I… I promise I’m not trying to make him stay. Ben deserves more than Jakku.”

Even if it’s far away. Even if I’ll miss him terribly. I feel like there’s a chance he might come back for me. But the dark part of me reminds me that isn’t what happens in Jakku. People leave and never come back. Why would they?

Leia gives my arm a squeeze, her expression a little softer now. “It’s a long way off, sweetheart. I keep telling Ben that. You two have a whole school year to get through first.”

Leia’s arms are just as full of shopping bags as mine by the time we’re done, and she declares that we’ve earned ourselves a treat after such hard work, and she takes me to a kitschy soda fountain that looks like a 1950s diner where we order root beer floats. I try to thank her again for her kindness to me, but as always, she just laughs and says I’m the one doing her a favor. I’m not sure that’s exactly true, but it feels good.

After the waitress places our floats in front of us, something crosses my mind, and it’s too interesting a thought for me to shove aside for another day.

“Leia? Can I ask you a question?” Her eyebrows lift, curious about what I might ask. “How did you meet Han? Was it love at first sight?”

What I’m not expecting is for her to snort so loud, so inelegantly, then start wheezing and shaking with laughter. Is she crying? I’m amazing that she’s crying she’s laughing so hard. I hadn’t thought my question that preposterous. She and Han seem to have such an affectionate, comfortable relationship, at least from my perspective.

“Oh my god. No. Absolutely not. Are you kidding me?”

I hand her one paper napkin after another so she can dab at her eyes as she tries to collect herself. “You’re so close now, though!” I exclaim. The Han I know dotes on her, making sure she always has a warm blanket on the couch, and cooking the things she likes to eat, and I think it’s so lovely the way his eyes follow her when she’s on the go.

“Yes, well. I suppose we do have our moments. Anyway… we met in 1980. Han had already been in for 13 years, and he was a Warrant Officer, a helicopter pilot. Me? I was a little 2nd Lieutenant. Total butter bar, straight out of OCS. He was a cocky flyboy, used to flying combat missions, and I was determined to prove I was every inch a soldier, even if I were in the Quartermaster Corps and not the Infantry. You know what they say about being a Quartermaster? No one considers us real soldiers until they run out of ammunition. Then suddenly, we’re very much in demand.” Leia grins, lifting her root beer float, and I clink my glass against hers, laughing.

“Well, in 1980, I found myself in a pool hall off post around Fort Mundi, Virginia. I was in Quartermaster School, and a few classmates had insisted on going out to cut loose a bit. There were a few other women in that class, and we were glad to have a chance to let our hair down and dance and flirt. There was a big crew of pilots who kept hitting on us that night. And here’s the thing about pilots—they think they are a gift to womankind. Never met one who didn’t feel that way.”

Leia swirls her spoon in her root beer float, and I think she can see the events from back then as clearly as she can see me sitting across from her.

“Anyway, we were having a good time, but there was this tall, handsome fellow with a crooked smile—well, you know how that goes, don’t you, Rey?”

I laugh slightly, and Leia continues. “Well, he was loud. So loud. Boasting and carrying on about his combat missions flying over Cambodia and Zaire—you know the stories—and he was drowning out the music from the juke box. For the record, one does not talk over Blondie. Federal offense.”

I giggle as Leia starts waving her hands, clearly reliving the frustration of that moment.

“So I decided to march over to his table where he was standing with half a dozen fellow pilots. I told him, ‘Keep it down, flyboy. Not everyone here is impressed with your stories.’ Well, Han turned around, looked me up and down, and he asked if I’d ever seen any action. His tone was so crude; I couldn’t think of anything to say! I just gaped at him. He just shrugged and laughed at me and said he didn’t think so, and the way he figured it, his stories were the only action I’d see, being a glorified supply clerk.”

Han. _Han?_ The same man who rubs her feet on the living room couch while watching X-Files on Sunday nights? The one who cooks dinner for her nearly every night and brings her a glass of wine on Friday nights when she’s had a rough week?

Leia laughs at the stunned look on my face. “I might have been speechless, but my hands knew what to do. I dumped my drink on him, and I stormed out with my classmates trailing after me, squawking about my temper.”

“What happened after that? How did you two ever get along?”

“Mmf, well. When Quartermaster school was over, I got assigned to a unit that was attached to the same Infantry brigade as Han’s aviation unit. And so, because the gods will have their little jokes on we mortals, I had to see him every day. We ended up in a lot of meetings together, glaring at each other, bickering every day about every little thing, even down to whether or not it was a quartermaster’s job to keep the coffee pot full when in garrison. It was a nightmare. I hated him so much! I would have bet on my life back then that I’d shove the man in a volcano if given the chance.”

Leia leans on her forearms, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “And then one night…”

My eyes widen, and I lean forward, too. “Yeah?”

“He asked if I wanted a ride in his helicopter.”

Leia lets that sentence hold its own weight. From the look on her face, I understand _everything_.

She sits back and grins a wicked, satisfied smile. I’ve seen that smile on her son’s face more than once. “We were married four months later. And yes, I was already three months pregnant with Ben. We had a shotgun wedding.”

“Leia!” I am scandalized, and I clap my hands to my face. “Does Ben know!?”

“Ben knows. He does NOT like this story.” Leia giggles girlishly.

+++

We return as the sun sets, and Han, the joking, gruff one I know, and not the rude, terrible man from the start of Leia’s story, is doubled-over laughing on the balcony at something Ben’s just said to him. Even from the doorway, I can see their shoulders shaking as they snort and stomp their feet.

Leia calls out to them, setting down her bags, heading toward the balcony. “Boys! Is that any way to greet women returned from the warfront?”

At the sound of her voice, Han lurches forward to his feet and wobbles slightly, before bounding inside, apparently delighted to see us, as if we really have been away fighting a war.

He’s followed by Ben who is moving with less assuredness than I normally see in him, as if perhaps he’s not sure if the floor is quite even. As Han kisses Leia’s cheek, a little red-faced, and when I look past them onto the balcony, I see a pyramid of empty beer cans between their previously occupied chairs. So that’s how they spent their afternoon.

Ben kisses me a little sloppily, and my suspicions are confirmed when I can taste the beer on him, and he grins with a less-than-guilty look as he takes my bags and puts them in our room. I gather that the trip to the batting cages went well if they had decided to spend the rest of the afternoon drinking beer on the condo balcony.

“Did you boys keep yourselves entertained? How’d it go down at the batting cages?” Leia asks, eyeing the empty cardboard beer pack on the counter.

From the way her eyebrow quirks and her lips are pursed, I can tell she’s deciding whether to be exasperated or amused. I think she settles on both after a long-suffering sigh, and she sinks onto the couch. I think Han might hear about this later, but he only gives her a relaxed, nonchalant shrug. He’s in another one of his Hawaiian-print shirts, the one with all the topless hula girls that Leia loves to hate.

“Oh yeah. Neither one of us is going to play major league ball, that’s for damn sure.”

Ben snorts and rolls his shoulders, his movements as loose as if he’s missing some ligaments. No tension there after… five? Six? _Good lord, I’d be unconscious_ , I think. “It was still pretty fun.”

“And I take it you came back here and…” Leia drifts off, trying to calculate how much everyone has had to drink so far.

“Well, first we ate some deep-fried food that would horrify your sensibilities, and then we came back here. Ben and I got to talking, and you know I give great advice after a few beers. And Ben, here, he’s practically a grown man, so when he wanted relationship advice, I had to be at my very best.” Han grins slyly, winking at me.

Relationship advice? About me? I glance from Han to Ben, curiously, which makes Han chuckle warmly.

Ben reddens slightly, and Han laughs, patting his shoulder. Han’s smile, full of mischief, couldn’t be broader, and he strolls past me into the kitchen to grab another beer.

Leia looks intrigued, and I think she’s going to forgive them a few too many beers this afternoon if they’re this content in each other’s company. Ben doesn’t look like he wants to climb the walls or make a run for it, which occasionally—okay, frequently—happens when Han tries to give advice. Maybe beer really is the key to father and son bonding.

“And what exactly did Ben need advice about?” I tease cheekily, laughing as Ben’s ears turn red like the rest of his face. This is clearly the question Han wanted me to ask, judging from the way his already Cheshire-cat-like smile spreads wider on his face.

“Well, you see, he’s got the biggest crush on this cute girl from his Driver’s Ed class,” Han starts, and Ben groans, slumping onto the couch next to his mother. “She’s a little out of his league, but I was telling him that if he’s nice to her, maybe tries actually talking to her, she might take pity on him.”

I gallop over to Ben and plunk down next to him. “This sounds serious! I hope it works out!”

Ben gives me a pink-cheeked and slightly glass-eyed smile, and he leans against me heavily. I realize how tipsy he is, and I laugh, kissing his cheek. Han asks us if we’re hungry, but seeing his condition, Leia determines that a pizza delivery is the best course of action. When I bustle around the kitchen, collecting plates and napkins for the pizza before it’s arrival, Ben hovers, inhibitions somewhat faded under a haze of Heineken, and he squeezes my butt whenever he thinks his parents aren’t looking. Leia catches him once, and when she quirks an eyebrow at him, he just laughs while I turn red.

After dinner, Ben groans that he’s tired, and Leia shoos him off to bed before pulling me aside. She gives me a tight hug.

“Thank you for a lovely day, Rey. Now can you do me one last favor?”

“Of course!”

“Can you make my idiot son take an aspirin or two and drink a glass of water before he passes out? Han’s full of great beer-soaked wisdom, but he may have missed out on that important detail.”

+++

Ben radiates warmth, a man-shaped furnace keeping me cozy whenever we snuggle close. I always tend to run a little cold, and his surplus of body heat suits me fine. But when I wake up in the middle of the night, it’s because I’m a little cold, and I shiver, reaching out for him, barely awake as my hand pats over the empty mattress.

“Ben?” I whisper, my hands finding the slight depression toward the side of the bed, and when my eyes focus more, I see Ben sitting on the edge, his face in his hands. He’s breathing hard, as if he’s just been running, as if he’s trying to calm himself, and I feel a clang of alarm in my chest.

“Benny?” I try again when he doesn’t respond, slowly sitting up and crawling over to him. Tentatively, I lay a hand on his shoulder, and he jerks forward in surprise.

“Shit! Rey!” When he turns to look at me, his long, angular face seems pale in the darkness shadowing us. “Fuck, what time is it?”

He runs his hand over his face, and I try to touch him again, and this time he’s ready for my hand to gently rub his back as I scoot close. This isn’t like him. I give the clock on my nightstand a quick glance. “2 a.m.”

He takes a deep breath, so deep that it seems to take hours for him to fully fill his lungs, then he holds it, then just as slowly lets the breath go. He suddenly seems so fragile to me, and I touch my lips to the back of his shoulder.

“Did you have the nightmare again?”

A nod of his head. “Really bad this time. I saw you fall. And when you disappeared at the end, when I couldn’t get to you, to save you, I could hear you crying.”

I slip my arms around his waist from behind. I wish I could take this dream out of his head. He shivers at my touch, and I rest my head against his upper back.

“That dream sounds awful.” He hums in assent. I can hear the quiet desperation just in the way he breathes, his chest rising and falling as I hold him close, trying to give him whatever comfort I can. “It’s just a dream, Ben. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not in any danger, my love.”

“The way you sounded, Rey…” his voice cracks with emotion. “I couldn’t keep you safe. It was my fault.”

“Just a dream, Ben,” I tell him again, more firmly. “We can’t know everything that’s going to happen. We can’t be afraid of what might or might not happen. Just be with me, and it’ll be alright.”

“You believe that?” He doesn’t sound skeptical so much as hopeful. Like I’ve lit a candle in front of him, and he can follow me out of the dark.

“Now that I have you in my life, I do.”

“Let’s get out of here,” he says suddenly, turning to face me.

“What? It’s two in the morning…”

“C’mon. Let’s go out on the beach. I really need to hear the waves. I think it’ll calm me down.”

+++

We race across the sand, barefoot, still in our pajamas, a couple of beach towels flapping over our arms. It’s so quiet, it’s like we’re the last two people on Earth, and our only company is the roar and churn of the dark Atlantic Ocean.

Ben leads the way toward the fishing pier, or rather, under the pier, where there’s a little alcove of boulders that block the sea breeze a bit. It is a secluded little spot, blocked from the main drag of the beach. The sand is cold underfoot, even though the night air is as warm and heavy as a cozy blanket.

Ben and I lay down our beach towels and sit. I think he was right. This is a good idea, and I fill my lungs with deep breaths of the salty air, letting a wave of relaxation roll through me. Ben already seems calmer, and he gives me a smile, showing his charmingly crooked teeth before leaning over to kiss me.

We sit, shoulder to shoulder, in peaceful silence, letting time stretch before us. There’s only us, the waves, and the moonlight, and I feel the connection between Ben and me as if it’s a physical thing. A warmth that seems to glow outward from our bodies and meld together, making us more balanced.

“I guess my dad and I kind of had a moment today,” Ben says, breaking the silence.

“Seemed like it,” I say with a soft laugh. “Neither of you could even stand up straight when Leia and I got back from shopping. If I drank that much beer, I’d have been unconscious.”

Ben huffs a laugh. “Good thing I’m twice your size.”

“It looked like you and Han were having a great time. I’ve never heard you laugh like that with him before.” I’ve seen them grouse at each other, I’ve seen them smile and tease each other, but the carefree, belly-laughing that I’d heard today was something new entirely.

“Dad and I… it’s been tougher between us than between me and Mom. He’s not really good at talking about feelings, and, um, I’m all feelings. We’ve had to work hard to get better at it. Talking. Without getting mad.”

Ben takes my hand, interlacing his fingers through mine. “And it’s been good. Mostly. We still lose our tempers with each other, but today, I don’t know, I kind of realized I really like my dad.”

Ben frowns at that slightly, and, annoyed with himself, rewords.

“I mean, of course I like my dad. I love him. But I realized he’s a cool person, too. I’d like him if he weren’t my dad. He’s still a pain in the ass, but… he’s alright, you know? He’s a wise-ass, but he’s got a really clear-headed way of looking at the world. Not a bullshitter.”

I lean my head against Ben’s shoulder, smiling. Sounds like Han, alright.

“Anyway, we ended up talking for a long time today. Just watching the waves, drinking beer. I felt like we were really understanding each other today. I think that’s why we kept drinking,” Ben laughs. “We were finally in sync.”

“What did you talk about?”

Whatever Han said today, there’s something in Ben now that seems to glow from within. Some truth, some peace and purpose has steadied his uncalm heart. The dream may have disrupted it temporarily, but out here listening to the waves, Ben is reclaiming the ease he’d felt earlier.

“A lot of relationship stuff. Me and him and Mom. Some stuff about, um, love. That sort of thing.”

Ben’s words are hesitant as he tries to explain the conversation. He starts, then backtracks, and I wonder if he’s feeling shy, or just overwhelmed, or just a little fuzzy due to the late hour. Or maybe all three.

“I guess I was thinking about how I feel about you. How, uh, intense it is sometimes. And not just, um, when we’re in bed.” He ducks his head, astonishingly bashful for the boy who’s become so bold, and I brush my fingers across the back of his neck.

“And I asked him if this is what it’s always like, being in love. Because when guys at school talk about girls, it never sounds like they care half as much as what I feel for you. I never felt complete until I met you. And I asked dad if that made me weird, or us weird, or… I don’t know. I don’t care if I’m weird. I just wanted to ask my dad if any of this is, um, typical.”

He’s so endearing as he rambles that I am compelled to kiss his cheek. I know every word he’s saying is heartfelt.

“I feel it, too, Ben. But I don’t care if we’re weird. It’s who we are.”

The focus, the intensity, the passion, the understanding, the utter peace of loving Ben is something I feel rippling through every cell of my being. It was like I was only half-awake before I met him. I take Ben’s free hand into mine, and I brush a kiss against the back of his knuckles.

“What did your dad say? Are we freaks of nature?”

“He said we’re two sides of the same coin.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him. “What does that mean?”

“Just… he said that I’ve always been lonely. That even as much as he and Mom loved me, I had a missing piece, even when I was little. Not like there was something wrong with me, but that there was something I needed. And when their jobs took them away so much, it got worse and worse. Nothing could really fill the hole, and I hurt all the time. It made me lash out.”

I think of the sad little boy my Ben must have been, and I cuddle close to him. He wraps his arm around me, kissing the side of my head before he continues.

“So, um, we came to Jakku. And I met you. And Dad says you had the same look in your eyes as I’ve always had. A little lost, a little lonely, even under all your smiles and sweetness. And then he said that he’s been watching that look disappear for the last few months.”

“We found what we needed in each other,” I say softly. “You always knew who I was. And I always knew you.”

Ben shifts and kisses me tenderly, his lips soft and seeking against mine. He still tastes like beer, and I can feel the warmth emanating from him. I can’t tell in the dark for sure, but I have an idea he’s as flushed as he was earlier.

“You’re mine,” Ben says quietly, seriously. He brushes his thumb over my cheek and kisses me again. “You’re my missing piece.”

“And you’re mine,” I tell him softly. I brush his hair back from where it has fallen across his forehead, admiring his handsome face. In the darkness, illuminated only by the cool moonlight, he’s as striking as the day I met him—with his too-big features, his scattered moles, and his slightly crooked nose and jaw. His eyes _are_ different, however, like Han said. They’re not so wary and distant now, not so critical.

Ben’s nudges me to lay back on the beach towels, curling his big body around mine. It feels amazing when Ben starts to kiss my neck, letting his hands slip under my shirt so he can cup my breasts.

“Say you’re mine,” he whispers, his tone urgent, his breath warm against my collarbone.

“I’m yours.” Nothing’s ever felt truer.

He nips under my jaw as his hands knead at my breasts more purposefully. I know what he wants. Needs. I find that I don’t care that we’re on the beach. Under the pier, hidden by the rocky alcove, at this hour, it’s not likely we’ll be discovered. When I reach down to pull off my shirt, it feels electric. Freeing.

“Beautiful,” he sighs beatifically. He closes his mouth over one of my breasts, sucking wetly before moving to the other. He looks up at me, his expression hazy.

“I need you,” he whispers, tugging at the waistband of my pajama shorts meaningfully, and I wriggle out of them and my underwear quickly before dumping them on the sand next to my discarded shirt. It feels so strange and decadent, being naked outside, my nipples tightening in the ocean breeze.

I watch as Ben clumsily sheds his shirt and shorts, grinning at me as he pushes his boxers down his hips. His body is simultaneously lanky and muscular, and I enjoy the flex of his backside and thighs as he sits back down towel. He takes my hand, and I crawl over his lap, straddling his hips, feeling his thick cock bobbing eagerly between us.

He cups my face and kisses me lavishly, soft lips moving wetly over mine, and I feel the moment stretch between us. The waves crash behind us, churning and dark, and the sticky salt air kisses my naked body. He slips a hand between us and begins to stroke the sensitive nub between my legs as he kisses from my earlobe, down my neck, and across my shoulder.

When I close my eyes, I’m given over to the sensation, and I rock slightly against his hand. I feel the roar of the ocean like it’s inside me, roiling with energy. I palm his thick cock, smearing his precum as I stroke him, feeling him twitch and grow harder under my fingers.

His hips shift, and he grinds into my hand, a groan escaping his lips.

He licks the side of my neck, and he slides a finger through the wetness at my core, before pushing inside and stroking slowly, coaxing my inner muscles to soften, drawing out more of my slick arousal.

“Say it again,” he implores needily, voice whispered, eyes heated. He moves his hands to cup my backside, lifting me slightly so he can poise the thick head of his cock against my core. As it notches just inside me, it sends ripples of pleasure through me, and I whimper in anticipation. “ _Say it_. Please.”

My heart is racing, and I want him inside me so badly that I’m trembling. But I know what he needs to hear. “I’m yours. I’m yours, Ben.”

His eyes close, and as I begin to sink down on him, he shudders and thrusts up into me. Hard.

I gasp in shock at the sudden stretch and fullness of his cock deep inside me, my fingers clenching his shoulders desperately as I try to adjust. His hands grasp my hips, and he bites my shoulder gently as I feel my inner muscles tremble around his cock.

“S-sorry,” he groans, and he stills himself, giving me time to move on my own, even though I can feel him shaking from the effort to restrain himself.

“I love you,” My voice is a softly whispered moan, and I lean into him, trying to get used to taking him from his angle. Chest to chest, sitting upright, it feels so different. My hips roll, and we both shudder and moan, and after a couple of minutes, I find the right rhythm, and I ride him steadily. Everything sets me alight, from the sounds he makes, to the clench of his fingers on my ass, to the thrumming friction within me that’s already making me shake, my inner muscles squeezing around him.

“Rey.” He speaks with a full-body shudder, and his hips begin to move again, pumping up into me, and making me feel a riot of electric sparks of pleasure.

We kiss like feral creatures, all teeth and tongues and lips, hips rocking together desperately, a live wire of energy between as we climb higher and higher.

“Mmm, Ben. I’m so close,” I whimper in his ear, and he grips my hips roughly and he gives me a series of rough thrusts that knock the breath out of my lungs, and makes my tight core convulse violently, sending me over the edge in a spasming mess. I cry out loudly, writhing helplessly through my climax.

Ben rolls me onto my back, and somehow we’re in the cold sand, and as I shudder underneath him, Ben continues his fierce pace, as if the churn of the ocean is dictating his movements. I strain under him, trying to find purchase for my feet in the sand. But it feels good. Ben is moving like a force of nature until I feel his body stutter and jerk, and he gasps into the curve of my neck, spilling his come inside me.

I’m dazed, finding it difficult to catch my breath, but I stroke my hands up and down his back as his lips ghost over my shoulder, trailing up my neck and to my lips. He exhales a sigh and gives my shivering body a slow pump of his still-hard cock as he kisses me tenderly. “Rey, I…”

I kiss him back, then kiss each of his freckles and moles on his face. “Mm, what is it?”

“We… we’re… I’m never going to love anyone but you.” He caresses the side of my face, his eyes intense, but clear and steady, not so glassy as before. I start to reply, but he brushes his fingers over my mouth, giving the tiniest of shakes of his head, letting me know he has more to say. I kiss his fingers with a light brush of my lips.

“I want to take care of you. And I should. My dad’s right. We’re a pair.”

“You do—oh, Ben…” I start to sigh, feeling such a powerful surge of love for him, but he shakes his head again that he still wants to talk, and he snuggles close, and I’m glad for his body heat, glad for the feel of him still inside me.

“Rey, I want… will you…”

His eyes show the whole of his heart.

“Will you marry me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OCS = Officer Candidate School. 
> 
> Quartermaster Corps = The U.S. Army Quartermaster Corps mission is to support the development, production, acquisition, and sustainment of general supply, Mortuary Affairs, subsistences, petroleum and water, material and distribution management during peace and war to provide combat power to the U.S. Army. Basically, if a soldier wants to eat or wants bullets for his rifle, it’s because someone in the Quartermaster Corps made it happen.
> 
> 2nd Lieutenant – This is the most junior officer rank. 2nd LTs are called “butter bars” because the insignia is a single, golden bar. 
> 
> It would have been somewhat scandalous for a young, green officer like Leia to find herself in a relationship, then pregnant with a Warrant Officer with as many years of military as Han. The marriage would have smoothed things over.
> 
> Army aviation/helicopter pilots: Army aviation units are attached to Infantry units for combat missions. All Army helicopter pilots are Warrant Officers. This is a rank classification between enlisted and officers. Leia would have outranked Han despite the fact she had only been in the Army less than a year. 
> 
> BEN SOLO. Your father specifically told you NOT do to anything stupid. Yes, dear readers, Ben Solo got all the feels during a heart-to-heart with his dad, drank too much beer, had semi-public sex with Rey, and asked her to marry him. While still inside her. DAMN IT, BEN SOLO!


	35. yield ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Beach Trip Part 4. The aftermath. Dinner. Boardwalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey looks so beautiful in the cream-colored linen dress that I can’t take my eyes off her. Her tan glows in contrast, and when her hazel eyes, which glimmer golden and green today, meet mine, she smiles and flushes. Her hair is loose over her shoulders, and she’s never been lovelier. When Mom tells us to stand on the balcony and pose for about a hundred photos, I don’t even complain, even though I feel so outsized and awkward next to the prettiest girl in the galaxy.

Dad’s wearing a smart-looking shirt with a collar, and Mom is looking regal in a sleeveless mauve shift dress. All this for some waterfront seafood restaurant, I muse. Mom always wants to create special occasions.

“Our family is small, but it’s still important to make memories. I want to capture every moment I can with you,” she says proudly, adjusting my shirt collar before making me crouch down so she can kiss my cheek and smooth my hair. “This is such a big year for you, and then my baby bird will fly away.”

She rubs at my cheek, realizing she’s left a lipstick print with a laugh, and Dad pats her back, his eyes gentle as he takes in her face. I gather she’s already struggling with the thought of an empty nest when I graduate.

“You clean up pretty good, kiddo,” Dad tells Rey. “Leia didn’t bully you too much yesterday, did she?”

Dad and I have both been subjected to the fashion-conscious tyranny of Leia Organa-Solo over the years. We know the affectionately-inflicted trauma she can mete out in a department store dressing room. Rey keeps saying she had a great time with my mom, but based on my own experiences, I don’t know that I entirely believe her.

Mom rolls her eyes. “I did not bully Rey!”

I grin and cut in. “You always bully me when we go shopping.”

“That’s because you want to buy the first thing that fits so we can leave.”

Dad squints at her, crossing his arms across his chest. “Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? If something fits, what else is there to think about?”

Mom gives a long-suffering look at Rey, as if to say, _“See? Do you see what I deal with?”_

It had been all but impossible to sleep last night when we’d returned from the beach, disheveled and quiet, stealing slightly love-drunk glances at each other. There weren’t that many hours left in the night, anyway.

When we’d woken up this morning, I’d cuddled Rey close against my chest, kissing her neck, then taking her left hand and kissing it, delighted with her.

“You’re sure?” I whispered in her ear, brushing my thumb over her bare ring finger. “You really want to be Mrs. Solo?”

_“What!?” Rey freezes underneath me, and she unconsciously clenches her snug inner muscles around me, making me groan._

_“Mmf. Um. Please marry me? I want to be your husband?” Okay. That didn’t sound as good as the first time._

_“Ben…” Rey starts to shake, and I ease out of her and hold her close, pressing kisses all over her face, trying to soothe her. I feel a pulse of angst, hoping desperately I haven’t upset her. When she finds what she wants to say, her voice is barely a whisper. “We’re… I’m sixteen. You’re only seventeen… your parents would murder us…”_

_“It’s okay.” I kiss her again. “I turn eighteen in March. My parents can’t stop me then. And then you can come with me when I go to college.”_

_I’ve rarely felt so confident or self-assured in my life. Especially when I have no plan._

_Her heart’s beating so fast, like the wings of one of the ruby-and-emerald hummingbirds that flit through the honeysuckle in the condo courtyard every day. She looks dazed. After a moment, she breaks away from whatever thought is tangling through her mind, and she touches the side of my face with a trembling hand._

_“Benny…”_

_I turn my face to gently kiss the palm of her hand._

_“I’ve been so afraid about next year.” Her voice is small, forlorn, and her eyes glitter with emotion. “But I don’t want to be like my mother. I promised myself… I promised your mother, I wouldn’t hold you back.”_

_I sit up slowly, and I give Rey a hand, helping her sit next to me. I brush at her legs and her rump to get the sand off, and we dress quietly in the shadows under the pier._

_“You wouldn’t be holding me back. I don’t even know if I can do college on my own, without you.”_

_I think of the devastation of the dreams I’ve been having, not being able to save her, then watching her disappear. I try to brush some of the sand out of her hair with my fingers. I think we’ll be finding sand in interesting places later when we shower._

_“Ben, of course you can do it... I don’t know why you think you can’t. You’re going to go to a great school, and you’re going to be brilliant.”_

_Her voice is wistful, and I can feel her heart like it’s beating in my own chest. I know Rey. She’s never asked for anything. She won’t even ask for me now, when I know she’s afraid to be alone again._

_“How can I go anywhere without you? I can’t take care of you if you’re in Jakku. You have to come with me. It’s the only way.” My voice is insistent as I try to make her understand how important this is._

_She wipes at her face, and I realize she’s crying, and that’s not at all how I wanted this to go. She presses her palms over her eyes, and I see a ragged shudder course through her body, as if she’s in pain._

_“We can’t. Your parents will lose their minds. They’ll hate me forever for ruining your life. They want you to go to school next year, and I’m pretty sure they mean for you to go alone.”_

_I gather her in my arms, pulling her hands away from her face and kissing away the tears. “You wouldn’t be ruining my life.”_

_“Ben.” My name is a plaintive whimper on her lips, and she buries her face in the crook of my neck. “I don’t even think we can until I’m eighteen.”_

_Right. She can’t get permission from a guardian who doesn’t exist. I sigh, and I kiss the side of her head. But in my heart, nothing has changed. I soothe her as best I can, feeling her warm tears on my skin. I can sense her longing, is vibrates out of her._

_“Sweetheart, please. Say you’ll marry me. Say you’ll be my wife. We can wait until you’re eighteen. But the very next day. Okay?”_

_She pulls back briefly to give me a tremulous smile, and I capture her lips in a warm kiss._

It’s our secret. We agree on that, holding each other close in bed, our fingers knitting together as we whisper through the night. I’d marry her today if I could. I feel like I’ve never had the right answer my whole life, but now I do.

When she’s eighteen, after she’s graduated from Jakku High, we’ll go to the courthouse and get married in front of a judge. We’ll sell her trailer and pack our things and leave. My parents will think we’re too young, but it’s my life. It’s her life. Our life. I think they’ll forgive us. I know they like Rey. Love her, even.

I kiss the palm of her hand, and I promise her an engagement ring, but she shakes her head in refusal. “Ben, save the money for when we’re married. We’ll have to support ourselves.”

“I guess you’re the practical one,” I muse, kissing the tip of her nose, making her smile.

“I know all about being practical.”

She does. Far more than I do, I expect. Her teenage years have been all about paying bills on time and making sure there’s enough money for groceries. She’s never had the luxury of frivolity. I wish I could give her that, but even I know that it’s probably going to be really hard at first, just the two of us on our own.

“I still think you should have a ring. There won’t be a wedding, and you won’t get to tell Rose until afterwards. I didn’t even propose right.”

I flush and groan at the thought of it. What do we tell the grandkids?

_Well, junior, Granddad had a bad dream, and his emotions ran away with him, so immediately after giving Grandma the business right there on the beach, he impulsively asked her to marry him. With his dick still inside of her._

She must love me if she still said yes after that ridiculous performance.

We’ll be living proof that romance isn’t dead, that’s for damn sure.

“Rey, you deserve something special.”

“I get to be married to you, don’t I?” Rey nestles closer, resting her head above my heart. “We can save up for wedding bands.”

+++

I grudgingly admit the restaurant is wonderful. The ocean sparkles in the moonlight beyond the vast picture windows, and the lighting is cozy with tiny tea candles on each table, and the food is good, and there’s even a dance floor. Mom beams with satisfaction that we’re all enjoying ourselves, and she and Dad keep us entertained with anecdotes from their younger days. After our dinner plates are cleared and dessert is ordered, Dad nudges me with his elbow.

“Well, kid?”

“Well, what?”

“You’re not gonna ask your sweetheart to dance?” Dad grins at me, and he motions to the dance floor, which is slowly filling with people as the night wears on.

I freeze, wide-eyed, torn between glaring at my dad and cursing the gods for giving me two left feet. Rey occasionally coaxes me to dance in her trailer’s tiny kitchen when we’re cooking, if you can call my awkward, jerky, clomping movements dancing.

Leia laughs, and Rey gives me a hopeful smile, and I find every brick of resistance tumbling and disintegrating into dust. At least the music’s slow. And at least I’ll have Rey in my arms.

After a tentative clearing of my throat, I stand and hold out my hand to her, my eyes finding and holding hers.

“Miss Sands, will you give me the honor of your hand?”

At my courtly words, Rey’s smile brightens like the sun, transforming her face from sweet to radiant. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Solo. It would be my pleasure.”

When Rey rises, taking my hand, I wink at my mother, who is holding onto barely restrained mirth. “Dad, aren’t you going to ask your sweetheart to dance? Or are you afraid you’ll break a hip on the dance floor?”

Dad snorts slightly, and he offers a hand to Mom. “Well, come on, princess. Let’s show the young folks how it’s done.”

Rey and I hesitate on the dance floor, and after a quick glance at the other couples, I put one hand on her waist, as she places a light hand on my shoulder, and we clasp our free hands. And then, we sort of wobble along, flushing and laughing.

“Why did you and your dad fight this so much? This is so fun,” she says chidingly, even if her eyes are fond.

“It’s fun now because you’re here. I finally have a dance partner.” I give her slender waist a squeeze, making her laugh.

“I’ll always want to dance with you, Ben Solo.”

“Is that a promise?”

Rey smiles innocently. “It’s a threat.”

Rey leans her head on my shoulder as we sway along to the music, and I hold her close. Rey loves these pop-country songs, and she beams up at me, glowing with affection.

_Looks like we made it_

_Look how far we've come my baby_

_We mighta took the long way_

_We knew we'd get there someday_

_They said, "I bet they'll never make it"_

_But just look at us holding on_

_We're still together still going strong_

_You're still the one I run to_

_The one that I belong to_

_You're still the one I want for life_

_(You're still the one)_

_You're still the one that I love_

_The only one I dream of_

_You're still the one I kiss good night_

_Ain't nothin' better_

_We beat the odds together_

_I'm glad we didn't listen_

_Look at what we would be missin'_

Meanwhile, Dad is gliding easily across the dance floor with Mom as if they’re born to it. I can hear her ringing laughter as he twirls her, and I wonder if that’s what nearly twenty years of marriage will look like for Rey and me. I hope so. I think so.

+++

I can’t believe it.

I can believe it.

It’s been 24 hours since I asked her to marry me, and it’s not a dream.

In the quiet of our bedroom, we undress each other slowly. I relish every inch of her tanned skin, and I find it necessary to kiss the inside of her wrists, her elbows, the dimples in the small of her back, and each vertebrae of her spine.

We find our way into bed, and Rey trails soft kisses over my throat, and across my chest. I start to reach for her, but she stills my hands and continues her way down my torso, letting her lips nuzzle over the sinews of my abs, and kissing down the faint line of fuzz below my navel. She lets her hand caress inside my thigh, and I feel her nose, then her lips bump against my semi-hard cock.

“Rey…” I sigh, sliding my hand over her shoulder, and I close my eyes as I feel her take me into her warm, wet mouth. Oh my god. I practically convulse from the way her lips feel wrapped around me, and I make what’s probably the most awkward noise any human has ever made, but Rey just sort of laughs and keeps suckling and licking at me. She’s touched my cock before, kissed it, tasted it, but tonight… all coherent thought is leaving my head, and just when I’m afraid my vision is going to be permanently blurry, I pull her up into my arms and roll on top of her, kissing her desperately.

It takes just a brush of my fingers between her legs to make her shiver.

I see the shape of our future as I kiss under her earlobe as I circle her clit delicately, trying to bring her along slowly.

I see us smiling, driving down a country road with Rey behind the steering wheel, her hair a little longer, maybe a few years older. I see a house with a porch swing, and Rey out in the driveway, looking under the hood of a car while I water plants in the garden. I see little legs and little feet running down a hallway to the breakfast table where bowls of cereal are waiting. And eventually, I see us gray-haired and happy, holding hands as we watch the sunset.

I’m turning sappy in my old age, I think, scattering warm kisses across her chest as I gently coax her arousal until she’s slippery enough for me to slide a finger into her and pump slowly, enjoying the soft, tight squeeze of her body.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?” I whisper, and she nuzzles at the top of my head until I shift so she can capture my lips with her own, letting them play over mine gently. “Good?”

She nods, and as our kiss deepens, I move my hands and settle between her thighs comfortably. When I push inside of her, she’s more than ready for me, her slick arousal easing the way, and she sighs softly, resting her forehead against mine when I’m fully within. I can’t tell if the pulsing feeling is her or me, but it feels like bliss, and we caress each other and kiss as I begin to move.

There’s no telling how long we move together, our breathing mingled in soft pants of pleasure. She’s warm and soft, and I lavish her with as much tenderness as I can.

When she comes, I hold her through the spasms, palming her backside, letting her moan joyfully into my mouth. My own release follows quickly, my rhythm falling apart as my body feels the tell-tale tightening within, and then the burst of pleasure as I come deep inside her, thrusting jerkily as I do when I lose that last bit of control.

After, we curl together, kissing and cuddling, and I brush the hair back from her forehead, all those little wisps that never seem to tame, especially in the humid, salty air of the beach.

“Love you.”

I don’t think either of us knows who says it this time, and we drift off to a blissfully dreamless sleep.

+++

One day, it seems like we have half the vacation left, and the next, we’re out of time, and the reality of Jakku beckons. I don’t know that I’m ready to return to reality—playing pretend to keep Rey’s secret, working and volunteering and studying, spending time with our friends, and just not getting to be around Rey all day, every day. At least I have the key now, I think with a private smile. And I think I can bear it all having our new secret, too.

We go to the aquarium with my parents, who apparently have lost their minds as demonstrated by their sudden and inexplicable insistence on wearing fanny packs out in public. They are deaf to my pleas to spare the public this trauma, but they are resolute in their decision. I didn’t even know they owned fanny packs.

“It’s just so convenient!” my dad crows, and mom laughs like she’ll never stop, and Rey’s shoulders shaking from suppressed giggles while I groan in despair.

Through the aquarium, my parents hover and take a ridiculous amount of photos, insisting that Rey and I pose in as many as possible with them and their neon yellow fanny packs that can be seen from one of Pluto’s moons.

I have a distinct suspicion that they’re doing this just to torment me, because as soon as we’re back in the car, they chuck the packs on the floorboard, giving each other a high five.

“Sorry, kids,” Mom wheezes, laughing helplessly. “Well, we’re not that sorry. We needed that. We’ve been so good all week, and we couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Son, I’m sorry you don’t understand that fashion can be functional,” Dad tells me smugly as he steers the car back to the condo.

I slump over in the back seat, and not even Rey’s gushing excitement over how cute the otters were can revive me.

I sleep late on Friday morning, and by the time I get up, Mom is gone to do some grocery shopping, and Rey is sitting with my dad at the dining table, looking over an automotive magazine with him, and he’s explaining to her the different maintenance diagnostics and engine functions as she nods attentively. He looks impressed at some of her more astute questions and a thoughtful look crosses his face.

He turns to me, quirking an eyebrow. “Your girly here is pretty sharp with mechanics.”

“I told you she can figure out how anything works. You saw what she did to your old alarm clock.”

I grin and run my hand through my hair as I yawn and begin rummaging around for something to eat. Aha. A bagel with cream cheese sounds good. I throw the bagel halves into the toaster oven and wait.

Dad snorts at the memory. The alarm clock had stopped working, but Rey had taken it home with her, rewired it, and now it makes the most unearthly noises when the alarm goes off. Frankenclock, she called it. And now Frankenclock has a prized location in a guest bedroom because Dad is certain it will scare the piss out of somebody one day. He’s counting on it.

Rey shrugs. “It’s like math. Everything has to connect in a certain way to work.”

Dad shakes his head. “Kiddo, it’s going to be a waste if you don’t go to college. You’re plenty smart, and you work hard.”

Rey makes a noncommittal noise and looks sidelong at me. “We’ll see. Ben’s convinced me to take the PSAT in October. If I do okay, I might think about it. Depends on scholarship money.”

“Well, I get that. I get that plenty. Why do you think I joined the Army? ‘cept I wasn’t so great in school, because I was too busy getting into scrapes. I didn’t have much choice but to join up, so I enlisted before I got drafted. Got to choose my MOS that way.”

Dad leans back in his chair, musing for a moment.

“Ya know, kiddo, there’s college money for joining up. GI Bill. I transferred mine to Benny, but if that scholarship money doesn’t come through, the Army could pay for you. Depends on your specialty, but if—”

I clear my throat loudly. “No.”

Dad looks up at me, surprised. “What?”

“Rey’s not joining the Army.”

“Well, hold on now, Benny. I’m just telling her that she’s got options--”

“I think it’s an awful idea.” I shove away from the counter, glaring at my father, feeling a sudden spike of anger roaring through me.

Rey. I know she’d make it through boot camp. I know she’d survive any training they threw at her. She’s too smart and too resilient to fail at anything. But that environment… I’ve spent my whole life hearing stories about how rough it can be on women, from my own mother, an Army Colonel no less, and my dad’s just pitching this casually as a potential life choice? When she could get sent off and killed, or just die in a training accident like her own fucking father? I’ll be damned if the US Army takes my wife from me after I spent my whole childhood wondering which of my parents might die first in some pointless war.

“Ben!” Rey’s voice cuts like a machete through my temper, and when I look at her, I see two spots of red on her cheeks, and her eyes are blazing angrily. “It’s fine. I’m not joining the Army.”

She reaches her hand out for my father’s, lowering her voice until it’s gentle. “Thank you, Han. I really do appreciate you telling me. But, um, I think it would break Maz’s heart. She’d be in a panic, thinking I’d end up like my father.”

Dad nods and gives her shoulder a squeeze. “That’s fair enough. I just wanted you to know. I grew up a lot like you, kiddo. The Army gave me a way out, but it’s not the only way out.”

He cuts a glare my way. “And you need to watch your temper. You’ve been awake, what, 20 minutes? Slow your roll, son.”

I huff angrily, and when my bagel is toasted, I storm out to sit on the balcony. I can feel the heat of Rey’s glare on the back of my head as I sit there eating, and when I come inside, I’m not surprised to find she’s retreated to the bedroom.

+++

“Rey?”

It’s been an hour, and Dad and I grudgingly made up in our way. That way consists of sitting silently in the same room and offering each other the TV remote until one of us breaks and takes it as an olive branch. Who’s to say the Solo men aren’t in touch with their feelings?

Anyway, now I’m creeping into the bedroom, where Rey is perched on the edge of the bed looking over the assorted shells and beach glass she’s collected this week. I have an idea the best of her collection will end up on her shelf of treasures, somewhere near that old turtle shell of hers and the colorfully painted rocks. She’s a little scavenger.

She looks up and smiles at me wryly. I feel like I don’t deserve that smile, even if it’s just a little one.

“Can I sit down? I want to apologize to you.”

“Did you apologize to your dad?”

I grunt and grumble, and I sit down next to her. “Yes. Sort of. The way we usually do it, anyway.”

Rey rolls her eyes at me and flops back on the bed. “I don’t know how your mother puts up with the two of you. Hair trigger tempers, and completely stubborn.”

“Come on. That’s not true…” Okay, it’s completely true. Rey and I snort. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, for losing my temper.”

“That’s not the only reason I’m angry.”

I frown down at her, perplexed. “Well? Don’t keep me in the dark.”

Rey rolls over and shouts into the pillow, then rolls back, rubbing her forehead as if she’s in pain. “Ben, you can’t just decide things for me. Even if you know they’re things I probably don’t want to do. But you cannot swoop in and declare what I will and will not do!”

Oh shit. That. I groan. “But you’re going to be my wife, and—”

“Oh my god, Ben. Do you hear yourself right now?” She sits up and grabs my shoulders, exasperated. “I’m going to be your wife. That doesn’t mean you get to make my choices for me. Do you think that’s how your parents’ marriage works?”

The thought of Han Solo dictating anything to Colonel Leia Organa-Solo is a foreign one. My brain immediately spits it back out. Does not compute.

“I swear I didn’t mean it like that. I meant… I want to _live_ with you. Not that you’re the little woman and I’m going to make all the big decisions. I’m marrying you because I want to wake up next to you in bed every day.”

“Next time… talk to me first? Please?”

I slide off the bed, and I get on my knees in front of her in supplication. “I promise. Your opinion matters to me.”

“And Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“You can’t join the Army, either.” Her lips quirk in a smile, and I surge upward, tackling her back onto the mattress with a laugh.

“So we’re going to live in the same house our whole lives and sleep right next to each other? Is that the plan?”

Rey nods, kissing me with warmth, caressing her fingers through my hair. “That’s what I want.”

I think of a little house with a big porch, and neighbors we know, and sitting on the couch watching TV while we hold hands, and we never having to wonder what the next day is going to be like.

“Me, too.”

+++

Rey and I stroll hand in hand on the busy boardwalk on our last night in Myrtle Beach. As we meander, we eye the shops and arcades and restaurants on one side, and of course, the beach and ocean on the other. Hungry seagulls opportunistically swoop and soar overhead as the lamps flicker on, one-by-one at sunset.

The past couple of days have mostly been spent by the pool, running on the beach, and splashing in the waves. Mom had insisted on another dinner out last night, this time to an eclectic tiki restaurant where Dad’s topless hula girl shirt was finally given grudging approval, and Rey stunned everyone in her navy dress with the stripe of tropical flowers down one side.

And if our virgin tiki drinks actually had rum in them due to a kitchen mishap, Rey and I didn’t bother to say a word to correct the matter, just drank two or three high-octane cocktails, and with as much dignity as we could muster, bobbed and weaved and wobbled back to our bedroom as soon as my parents dropped us off at the condo before venturing out for a late evening nightcap, and had we had loud, drunk, laughing sex followed by massive headaches this morning. Not our most artful performance, but thoroughly enthusiastic.

Mom and Dad required no serious convincing to let us have a date night on the boardwalk sans adult supervision. After leaving us on the curb with enough money for dinner and whatever nonsense we found interesting, Mom waved at us and peeled out of the parking lot. She was clearly eager to get somewhere.

Rey quirked an eyebrow, amusement in her voice.

“Do you think they’re…”

“Ugh, no. Stop. Don’t even say it out loud.”

“I bet they’re going to wear the fanny packs, too.”

“REY!”

She giggles wickedly, and I grab her around the waist and twirl her around while she squeals.

“Those are my parents! You can’t put that image in my head,” I complain, groaning and hugging her tight.

Rey’s dressed in one of her new outfits, and I can’t help but admire her in the turquoise top and khaki skirt. As slim as she is, when her clothes fit her well, that gawky look has disappeared. And seeing her long legs in a skirt causes parts of my brain to short circuit. I’ll have to hold that thought until later, however, I think wryly.

“What do you want to eat for dinner?”

Rey screws up her face in thought, as if this is the biggest decision she’ll ever make. “Hmm. Know what? I want corn dogs and curly fries.”

I grin at her. “What a refined palate you have.” I tease, but just the smell of the deep-fried food is making my stomach growl. Whenever Dad and I have the chance, he is more than eager, gleeful, in fact, to eat towers of nachos covered in cheese and just about anything that’s been breaded and dropped in a fryer.

She shrugs helplessly. “Your parents fed us too well all week. I need grease to compensate.”

“That’s my mom’s influence. She’s always after us to be healthy and eat right.”

Rey and I grab our contraband dinner from one of the food kiosks, and she’s as liberal as ever with her ketchup distribution, even adding hedonistic swirls of mustard to the corn dog. It’s a messy affair, but it tastes like heaven. Slightly burnt, greasy heaven.

She taps her foot against mine as we eat, and we people watch and try to keep the seagulls away from us as we protect our curly fries from their interest.

“Do you ever watch people and wonder where they’re going? How they got here?” she muses, watching a family standing in front of one of the tee shirt shorts littering the boardwalk, looking at prices for air-brushing.

“Well, some of them probably came in a car, or walked up the beach…” I say, purposely obtuse, and laugh when she elbows me in the ribs.

“No! Think about it. It’s like Jakku. Some people are born there, like me. Others just kind of end up there, like your dad’s friend, Charlie. And you, and your parents, you’re there temporarily. When I meet people in Jakku, I always wonder if they’re there by some odd accident, or on purpose, or just passing through. Sometimes the on-purpose and on-accident people overlap.”

“I think that’s any town. Maybe Jakku is a little extreme because it’s an Army town.” I lean my forearms on the picnic table, toying with the wrapper from the soda straw absently. “I never really tried to think about it. I’ve always been passing through, my whole life. Just drifting, never connecting with people or places. There were some PCS moves where we knew we’d be there such a short time, my parents didn’t even unpack most of the boxes. I hate the smell of cardboard. And I hate the sound of packing tape.”

“An object at rest stays at rest. An object in motion stays in motion. An outside force is required to change these states.” Rey grins, plucking the last curly fry out of the red-checked cardboard basket and dropping it into her mouth.

“Newton? Really?” I tease. “Do corn dogs always make you swing from philosophy to physics?”

“Who said physics can’t be philosophical? It’s how the universe works.”

“Then what’s the outside force, oh wise woman on the mountain?”

“Hope? Friendship? Love?” Her expression is thoughtful, and she fidgets with a paper napkin.

“Do you think love is as powerful as gravity?”

Rey answers by way of a smile, one that lights her up all over, and she grabs my hand.

“C’mon, Solo. I want to play skee ball. Are you ready to lose?”

I wasn’t ready. Somehow, I’d thought she was only joking, but Rey has a preternatural ability to play skee ball. If there were a professional circuit, she would be a grand champion with a multi-million dollar endorsement from Nike. After a few rounds, I just stand back and watch the tickets spill out of the machine as she collects one high score after another.

She holds aloft her ribbon of tickets victoriously, and I applaud her, enjoying her triumph.

“Alright. I know when I’ve been hustled. Now we’re playing my game.”

Her eyebrows quirk upward, and she’s all smiling interest. “Oh yeah?”

I shoot one basketball after another, each one swishing easily through the net. I never take my eyes off the hoop, just flick my wrist and send another ball sailing cleanly through.

Rey stands by with her mouth hanging open. She’d bricked nearly every shot the first time she tried, with only a slight improvement the second time. After that, I’d smugly informed her it was time to let an expert take over.

“When did you learn how to do that?”

“I’m tall. Every PE teacher I ever had tried to make a ball player out of me.”

“Why did you never try out for the team? Ben! You could have been a sports hero this whole time!” She laughs warmly, delighted at knowing my secret skill, and she squeezes my arm after the final ball soars through the net and the machine spits out more prize tickets. I now have a ribbon that rivals Rey’s.

“Me? Team sports?” I shake my head, snorting back a laugh. “I was too busy boxing. I liked punching people a lot more back then.”

Rey nods, and I see the unspoken questions in her eyes. I know she still wants to know about Chandrila. Needs to know. Deserves to know. But that’s for another day, and I brush a quick kiss against her lips.

“What about now? Would you try out this year?”

I shake my head, sliding an arm around her waist as we head to the prize desk to see what our tickets will get us.

“Nope. I’m not going to have time for that. I want to get more hours at the commissary and start saving money.” For her. For us. I find myself smiling down at her, feeling like my heart will burst. “I’m going to have a wife to support.”

God, I just feel so stupidly in love with her. No thoughts. Just Rey. It aches to be this happy.

The prize clerk points us to the corner of the display case with the items in our winnings range. It’s a lot of junk, for the most part. Stuffed animals. Plastic, beaded necklaces. Kazoos. But our combined winnings get us on the top shelf of the display, and I spy something I like. When Rey’s distracted by a small child bumping into her legs, I tap the glass to make my selection.

“What’d you trade the tickets for?” she asks as we leave the arcade.

“Mmm… Come with me.”

I grab her by the hand, and I tug her along the boardwalk until we’re at one of the overlook points. The Ferris wheel from the amusement park area is glittering brilliant in a dazzling array of colors and designs as it spins, and the ocean sparkles and churns, and the scent of fried food and cotton candy hangs on the air. People bustle along, shouting and laughing. But as Rey and I look at each other, everything falls silent, and there’s only us.

“I… I kind of mucked up the proposal before.” I run my hand through my hair nervously. “I keep thinking it should have been something more romantic than, uh, us getting sand in weird places.”

Rey bites her lip, trying not to laugh, her lovely face full of good humor and affection. “It was better than romantic; it was memorable. _Really_ memorable, Ben.”

I laugh, and I reach in my pocket to pull out the arcade prize. When I hold out my hand, Rey places hers in it, looking up at me curiously. I think of everything I could say. All the poetic words available after years of studying Shakespeare and poetry in my English classes. None of them are right. I could word-vomit my feelings at her like I did the night I proposed, but since I’ve already done that, I decide just to show her.

I kiss her hand, and I carefully slip a ring onto her finger. It’s a simple ring, and nothing that would be found in an expensive jewelry store. She watches, fascinated, as the pewter ring with a blue enamel butterfly slides into place, a perfect fit. From her expression, I don’t think she’d have been any happier if I’d put a diamond on her finger.

Rey’s eyes shimmer, and she’s smiling so wide her dimples must hurt. Mine hurt from how hard I’m smiling down at her.

“So it’s still yes?”

“Yep. Still yes.”

Her voice is light, and a sweet laugh bubbles out of her, and I can’t help but hug her fiercely, lifting her off the ground.

I can feel my heart racing. My whole life is right here in my arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone, please pray for these teenage idiots. Light a candle or something. 
> 
> So, because I do more research than you would think for a 1998 High School AU, it would be feasible for underage Rey to pull off a marriage with Ben. The state only requires a parental consent form, but not the presence of a parent. In fact, prior to 2001, the form didn’t even have to be notarized. Basically, in 1998, it was harder to get a driver’s license than to get married. Do with that information what you will. But Rey and Ben aren’t planning to break the law, even if they’d like to.
> 
> GI Bill: After a certain amount of service, military members are eligible for the GI Bill, which provides tuition and housing money for college. With six additional years of service, a military member can transfer their GI Bill benefits to a dependent. In this case, that’s what Han did—he transferred his benefits to Ben so he could go to college for free. 
> 
> The quoted song lyrics are from Shania Twain’s “You’re Still the One” which was #2 on the Top 40 during the last week of July in 1998.
> 
> I'm @junkyardjeditr1 on Twitter. Come find me for ramblings about writing and the tension between me and the people delivering my takeout.


	36. two-way traffic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Hanging with Paige and Rose. Getting to know Charlie. An opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Earth to Rey!”

The words break through my distraction with the precision of a mallet, and my head bobs up from where I’ve been daydreaming, no longer hearing the cheerful banter of my friends. Mentally, I’m still at the beach, holding hands with Ben and kissing under the glow of the Ferris wheel’s neon lights at the boardwalk.

“Hmm? What? Sorry…”

Rose, Paige, and I are sprawled on towels in the Tico’s backyard, sunning ourselves and reading magazines.

“Good lord, you are a space cadet! What is with you?” Rose complains good-naturedly, kicking my leg lightly.

I can’t even imagine her reaction if I told her. My ring is back home in a keepsake box on my bedside table. I can’t wear it around, Ben and I agreed, but knowing it’s there fills my chest with a warmth and a confidence that makes me feel like I can take on anything. Our secret.

“Oh, nothing. Just daydreaming.” Assuredly, this is not a lie. I haven’t seen Ben since his parents dropped me off at my trailer two days ago, and it feels like an eternity. Rome has risen and fallen, the sun is setting on the British empire, and I am languishing without my boyfriend, my fiancée, I remind myself, after just two days apart. _You’re getting soft, Sands_ , I tell myself. I never used to need anyone like this. Now I just have my person. My Ben. And I’m loathe to give up the comfort.

At least I’ll be going to his house for dinner tonight.

“About Beeeeeen?” Paige asks teasingly, her eyes glinting knowingly.

I laugh and reach for the can of Pringles in front of Paige. “No!” Yes.

Rose giggles. “Rey, you’ve barely said a word about the beach trip! How was it? What’d you do?”

I somehow manage not to blush, thinking instantly of the more passionate activities we’d amused ourselves with. Ben under me. Ben on top of me. Ben behind me. Maybe I’m naïve, but I hadn’t thought it was possible to have that much sex.

“It was amaaaazing. Ben’s parents are super nice, and they took us to the aquarium and mini-golfing and everything. Oh my gosh, they took us to this tiki restaurant, and there was a mix-up with our drinks, and the waiter brought Ben and me these super-strong cocktails instead of virgin drinks. And we didn’t say a word! We just drank them and ended up getting wasted. Han and Leia were so confused until they sniffed our glasses.”

Rose and Paige laugh gleefully.

“You and Ben didn’t get annoyed being around each other so much?”

“What do you mean? Why would we?”

Rose gives her sister a significant look. “See what I mean? Those two are ridiculous. Look at her. She doesn’t even understand the question. Do you two even have arguments?”

“Yes, we have arguments! Have you met Ben? He’s super bossy and a total grump some days.”

I laugh slightly, shaking my head. I could list any number of arguments he and I have had. It’s just that all the arguments end with us talking things through until we’re kissing or cuddling each other back into a good mood.

Rose adjusts her sunhat and then tips her sunglasses down to look at me. “He’s a lot less grumpy than he used to be. I used to wonder why there was always this scowling giant following you around. Then suddenly he started smiling and talking to you. What could have changed?” she trills jokingly in a singsong voice.

“Nothing’s changed! We’re just, you know, in love.”

“Oooooooh,” Paige giggles.

“Oh, quit it,” I scold them, feeling no real annoyance. “Rose, you and Finn have been ridiculous all year with your nonstop flirting. You two started happy, and then you somehow found it within yourselves to be downright nauseating. It’s like if a Hallmark movie were a documentary!”

“It’s true, sis. Finn looks like he has cartoon hearts in his eyes when he sees you.” Paige snickers and snags back the can of Pringles from me.

“Well, he’s driving me crazy right now. It’s Poe this, and Poe that. I’m suuuuper annoyed with him.”

“Have you told him?” I ask, nudging my shoulder against hers. “Just say you want to spend more time with him.”

“I don’t want to sound like a baby. He has a right to have other friends. They’re on the baseball team together, and they’re both training for cross-country, so I guess I should just get used to it. But, oooh, it’s getting hard to hold out on the other stuff, too. We’re struggling, Rey.”

“Other stuff? You mean… sex?” Well that’s not very Hallmark of her. I quirk an eyebrow at her, intrigued.

Paige is all ears. “Is my baby sister thinking of doing the deed?” If she had pearls, she would be clutching them melodramatically.

“No! Yes! I don’t know. I’m supposed to be saving myself!”

“For what? For who? Luke Perry?” Paige asks flippantly. She shoves a Cosmo magazine in Rose’s face. “You read this like it’s your holy grail, you’ve done everything except else, you’re in love… need I go on? Sis, I got my v-card swiped back when we were in Mustafar—Rey, never go there. What a pit!”

“Paige! I can’t believe you! We both signed the purity pledge at church!”

Paige shrugs, her expression smug. “Rosieposie, do what’s right for you. I’ll do what’s right for me. What do you say, Rey?”

A purity pledge? My mind is still tangled on that. What the heck?

“Oh, um. Yes. Do what’s right for you, Rose. Anyway, that’s not binding, right? It’s not a legal thing.”

Rose’s eyes narrow at me speculatively. Shit. Busted. “It’s about faith. And what’s right for you, Rey? Are you and Ben…?”

I try and fail to look as nonchalant as Paige. She might be only three years older, but she is so much more worldly and sophisticated by my estimation. “Err, yeah. We, um. We have. Yes.”

“Rey! After all that mess…”

I frown at her, anticipating a scolding, albeit a well-meaning one. “One mistake doesn’t mean I have to flog myself for the rest of my life. And I trust Ben. He’d never hurt me.”

Rose shakes her head quickly. “No, I wasn’t going to say that. I meant… after all that, you found someone who truly loves you. …is it good? With him? Please tell me it’s good. You deserve that, at least.”

I’ve never gone into much detail with Rose after she’d learned about what happened last summer, but she’d figured out the shape of things from what I didn’t say, as much as from what I did. I wonder if that’s a reason she’s kept things the way they are between her and Finn. Maybe she just didn’t want to find out.

I blush, and I hide my face in my hands, nodding. “Mmmhmm. But I can’t talk about it. It’s private. But it’s good. Well. It’s amazing.” I peek up at Rose and Paige, feeling shy.

Rose leans over hugging me tightly. “Good. Good for you. And I’m sorry about saying waiting for marriage is best. I didn’t know what was going on with you then… and if I made you feel weird. I… maybe I don’t know enough about sex or guys to make that call. Not for people who aren’t me, anyway. Wait. I have one more question. Then I’ll leave it alone.”

“Um, okay. What?”

“You’re being safe? You and Ben are using protection, right?”

Paige starts laughing. “Rose! You’re such a mom! Stop turning our afternoon into an _ABC Afterschool Special_.”

“It’s a valid question, Paige!”

“Yessss, Rose. Ben and I are being responsible.” I smack her with a rolled-up Cosmo magazine. “Now I think Paige should tell us all about Mr. Mustafar, any other paramours, and her plans for Mr. Poe Dameron, who is deliriously enamored with her.”

Paige laughs. “Alright. But if either of you say a word to anyone, you’re double dead donkey meat, and I’ll feed you to an alligator.”

Ooooh, this is going to be good.

+++

I’m not more than a block from the Tico place, heading on foot to Ben’s neighborhood when Poe’s Jeep screeches up next to me, blasting music.

“I thought that was you! I’d recognize your skinny chicken legs anywhere. Get in, Sands. You headed to Ben’s?”

I haul myself up into the passenger seat, grinning at Poe’s harmless teasing.

“Good to see you! I feel like it’s been forever. Is that sasquatch holding you hostage? Just blink three times if you need help, Rey.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Oh, shut up, Poeseph. It’s barely been two weeks. Besides, you’ve been busy chasing Paige all summer!”

Poe grins rakishly. “Well, you’ve been with the lovely Tico sisters this afternoon. I need intel. What’s on their agenda? Is Paige scrawling ‘Mrs. Poe Dameron’ in her journal at night? Come on, Rey. You’re my inside track on this quest.”

I shrug. “Well, I know they’re going to Dopheld Mitaka’s lake party. And I think they’re probably going to go roller skating at some point this week.”

“You and Ben going?”

“To that party? Are you on drugs? You know that party is going to get overrun by jerkholes.”

Poe shrugs. “Why should they have all the fun? Stake your claim, Sands. This school and this town is as much yours as theirs.”

I huff slightly. “I’m just going to hang out with you, Finn, Rose, Paige, and Ben all night long, anyway. Why can’t we do that here?”

“Because _here_ is not a private lakefront house lacking adult supervision.”

“Eh. Rose says Ben and I are like a couple of old grannies together. We might stay in and knit a blanket and bake cookies. Something exciting like that.”

Poe just shakes his head, bemused, as he pulls up in Ben’s driveway and makes a grand flourish.

“Thanks for the ride!” I slide out of his Jeep, then pause and look up at him, feeling sly. “Oh, one last thing.”

His eyebrows quirk upward in open interest.

“Paige says you’re cute.”

I see his eyes move heavenward and he mouths a silent thank you to the gods. I laugh a little, and I wonder if Paige is going to let him kiss her or not before she goes back to college at the end of the month.

“Later, Poe!”

+++

I’ve actually made it to Ben’s house before he has, but Han gladly lets me inside, taking my backpack from me and setting it at the base of the coat rack while I toe off my sneakers.

“How’s it going, kiddo? How’s Maz doin’?”

“Everything’s great! Maz says thank you again for taking me with you to the beach.”

“Well, you’re a good kid. And for some reason, that son of mine likes you, too.” Han motions with his head toward the family room. “Wanna come sit down? Charlie’s here. Come say hello.”

The big man stands up as soon as I enter the room, grinning broadly from under his shaggy beard. “Well there’s the little lady we were just talkin’ about!”

I blink confusedly and stare at Han for a moment, but he just motions for me to sit down, and when I do, Han and Charlie follow suit.

“Hello, Charlie, it’s good to see you again,” I start politely, then growing bolder, I blurt out, “Why were you talking about me? Did I do something wrong?”

Han shakes his head, laughing fondly. “Why do you always think you did something wrong?”

I shrug. I mean, it’s possible, isn’t it?

“Nah, little lady, nothing wrong. I was just telling Han that I finally placed ya. I think. Does the name Linn Kanata mean anything to you?”

“Linn Kanata?” It’s like I’ve been sloshed with ice water, I’m so astonished. I’m sure I’m gaping at him, looking foolish. “That’s… that’s my grandmother’s name. My Aunt Maz’s baby sister.”

Maz was roughly 25 years older than her sister. Linn had been a “change of life” baby as Maz put it, and so while they were sisters, they hadn’t grown up together. Maz was already married and out of the house when her sister was born. And as Linn reached adulthood, they’d discovered they didn’t much care for one another, either. Maz was always eccentric, always determined to go her own way. Linn, well, who knows. Maz never talked about her much except to say she cast off her own child and that was unforgiveable in her eyes.

Charlie sits back, folding his hands over his stomach, grinning broadly. “Girl, you are her spit! You look just like her, and I’m an old man with cobwebs in his brain, but I finally figured it out. See, Han? I know that girl. Well, I knew of her. Linn used to bring her car down to my shop from time to time, and she was good friends with my wife.”

I don’t know how round my eyes must be at this point. This is more information than I’ve ever heard about my grandmother. But even amidst the fascination and the desire to know all I can, I feel a pulse of concern.

“Do you know my Aunt Maz?” I smooth my clammy hands over my shorts, trying to look casual.

“Maz? Can’t say I had the pleasure. From what I recall, she and Linn weren’t close?”

I nod at that. “No, Maz says she never had anything in common with her sister. Not even in appearance.” 

Charlie nods slightly. “Well, Marcy never much mentioned her. Honestly, I’d forgotten that Linn had a sister. Now let’s see what else an old man can remember. You gotta forgive an old grump, little lady, my head’s full of cobwebs. Haven’t thought of this stuff in years.”

He leans over to give my hand a pat and a friendly smile. Then his face lights up again.

“Alright. Now--Linn… she had her a little girl—Sharie?”

“Sh-Sharon. My mother.”

I have a flash of that faded photograph in the cardboard box containing my mother’s things. Sharon, who had me at sixteen and was dead by twenty.

“Thaaat’s right. Teeny little thing when I first met her. But she grew up to be a bit of a handful, and, well, you know the rest I imagine. She broke Linn’s heart, quitting high school to marry that soldier.”

I didn’t know Linn. And I didn’t know the woman who left me behind and never came back, but I feel the strongest compulsion to defend her. Maz loved her enough to take her in, after all. “She wouldn’t let her come home when my mother got widowed.”

Charlie’s expression dims with sadness. “Linn was a hard one. She thought tough love was the only kind. It was a shame when she died. She never got to patch things up with Sharie. Never got to meet you, I expect.”

This… this isn’t what I expected today, and I have had enough of my racing heart and thoughts. I need this conversation to end.

I stand up as abruptly as if the sofa under me is on fire. “Excuse me. I need to use the washroom.”

I scramble out of there, trying to master the sudden roil of feelings, but before I reach the small hallway powder room, I slam right into Ben’s chest, and he catches me with an impish smile that fades quickly when he sees my face.

“What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “I just need a minute. Your dad’s friend Charlie. H-he knew my mother and grandmother. I wasn’t expecting it. That’s all. I don’t think he realized how it would hit me.”

“Are you going back in there?”

“It’d be rude not to. Can you… can you cover for me for a minute? I’ll be right back. Put my smiley face on.” I mimic an approximation of my cheerful face, and Ben smiles sadly. He presses a light kiss to my forehead.

“Alright.” I can see Ben’s brow furrowed in thought as he heads into the family room to be met with a roared greeting, a joyous sound. Everything with Charlie seems to be a big emotion.

I splash cold water on my face, and I try some of the breathing exercises I’ve seen Ben do when he’s anxious until I feel my heart’s pace is back to normal. When I look in the mirror, my face looks untroubled, and I pull a little smile on, and I return to the family room and sit next to Ben. He looks relieved to see me pulled together.

“Sorry if I startled you by talking about your grandma and ma like that, little lady. Didn’t mean no harm. Just my way of saying that I know who you are. My wife would consider you family—all her friends were family.”

“It’s okay,” I say politely. “Maybe I could ask you about her sometime? I don’t really know much.”

“Anytime you want, I’ll talk,” he says warmly. I can tell he means it, and I’m surprised that he would care so much.

Han laughs. “And he’ll never stop talking, either.”

“Now listen here, buddy boy, just because you got some aviator wings…”

+++

Ben curls himself around me in my bed, holding me firmly against his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat calms me, and I close my eyes, relaxing as I feel his lips kiss the back of my neck.

“That was the longest two days of my life,” he sighs, his warm breath tickling my skin. “Last week spoiled me.”

After dinner with his parents and Charlie, Ben had driven me home, and we’d stripped to our skins before sliding into bed to snuggle against each other. Ben’s hands skim over me, warmly surveying my body as if it might have changed drastically since he last saw it on Sunday morning.

“You and me both.”

“How’s the job hunt going?”

I sigh, and I turn slightly to look at him and make a face. “I’ve been going through the want ads, and I’ve made some phone calls. So far, only the Chinese restaurant next to Wexley’s looks viable. They need a delivery driver.”

Ben frowns at me, tapping the tip of my nose with his index finger. “You don’t have a driver’s license.”

“…I know. I’d be careful.”

He buries his face in my shoulder, groaning as if in mortal pain. “You’re killing me, smalls.”

I giggle and tug on his hair until he looks up at me, bemused. “Sorry. Just trying to work with what’s in front of me. I can’t be too choosy.”

“I’m going to start putting in more hours at the commissary. Maybe apply to work as a stock boy. I want to save up as much money as I can this year.”

I hear the unspoken words, too. He’s trying to be more responsible, for my sake. He’s still trying to show me he can take care of me, when I already believe he is. He can. I wish he wouldn’t agonize over it so much. The worry is always there, lingering in his eyes, even when we’re laughing together, and it worsens every time he has to leave me alone at night in my trailer. It’s been scarcely more than a month, and at the rate he’s going, he’s going to have to calm down or freak out.

I kiss his forehead with a loud smack, and I tease my fingers over the curve of his ears, inwardly lamenting, yet again, the way I know my problems weigh on him. My heart pangs sadly.

“Promise me you’ll wait until after you take the SAT? Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

Ben sighs and nods after a moment. “Mmm, okay. I’ve decided to not join that boxing gym. I just want to work, do some volunteer time at the food bank, and focus on school. And you, Mrs. Solo.”

I can’t deny the giddiness that courses through every cell in my body when he calls me that. Two years is a long engagement, but I’m resigned to it. I wish I could petition to run off with him next summer. It seems silly that I can’t make my own choices when I’ve already been doing better than some of the adults I’ve seen around Jakku.

“I can’t believe school starts in less than three weeks. Uuuugh,” I mutter, crawling on top of him and resting my chin on his chest. His arms circle my waist, and I smile as he palms my backside affectionately. “Do you want to go pick up our schedules together? I’m sure we’ll be in Calc 2 together, since there’s only one section of that.”

“Will you be my study buddy?” he asks, squeezing my butt cheeks before giving them a playful smack.

“I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”

“Sexual favors?” Ben gives me his most charming smile, all dimples and eager puppyish eyes, and I laugh, leaning in for a long kiss.

“That seems fair.”

“I think I’ll pay in advance, then.” Ben growls and nips at the curve of my neck.

We laugh and kiss, and when I feel Ben’s cock stiffening, I slide my hips down so I can rub my core along the hard length of him until we’re both panting. When I’m wet, my arousal slicking us both, Ben holds my hips steady, notching himself at my center before thrusting into me.

I can’t help but moan at the stretch, and I bury my face in his neck, mouthing at his slightly salty skin.

“Mmm, that’s my good girl,” he whispers, making a current of pleasure dance down my spine. One muscular arm holds me tight against his chest, the other bracing my hips against his as he pumps into me slowly.

Ben always seems to know what I need, and after being upset earlier, after two days of missing him, I want him like this. Close. Tender. Firm.

I graze my teeth over his skin, and he groans as his hips work faster, his strokes more purposeful. My inner muscles tighten and convulse around him, fluttering as the pressure inside me builds until it breaks happily loose and I cry out softly. Ben’s hands press me tighter against him and he finishes quickly, coming in hot spurts inside me, after a series of ragged thrusts that leave him gasping.

He rolls me onto me side, cuddling me close, his burnt honey eyes hazy after his release.

“I love you,” he says, soft as cotton, whisper-quiet.

“Love you, too.” I stroke his face with a delicate brush of my fingertips, admiring the crescents of his deep dimples when he smiles crookedly at me.

This Ben Solo. My future husband.

I’ve lived a life of being left behind and forgotten and invisible.

Until Ben Solo saw me.

And loved me.

And wanted me.

+++

My job search isn’t going well. The Chinese place wanted to see my driver’s license, of course, and I can’t believe I thought for a minute it would be possible to be a driver without one. _Your head’s in the clouds, Sands_ , I tell myself. Be methodical. Figure out which places won’t want too much information.

Finn and Rose pick me up one day to go to the pool on Fort Windu, but after enough sun and Rose and Finn’s increasingly flirtatious glances at one another, I wink and tell them I’m going to go annoy Han until Ben’s done at the food bank.

“Can I give you a ride over there, peanut?” Finn asks as I start packing up my backpack, and I shake my head.

“Nah, thanks, though. I need to stretch my legs. All I’ve done today is lay around and eat chips.”

When I get to Ben’s, the Falcon is in the driveway, hood up, and Han and Charlie are standing over it, debating something. They’re all waving hands and pointing until I chirp out a greeting.

“Hey, girly! Whatcha doin’ here? Ben won’t be home for a couple of hours,” Han tells me with a grin, wiping his hands off on a rag before pulling me into a side hug.

Charlie grins at me in his fond, interested way. “Little lady, always a pleasure to see your face. You want to hang out with a couple of grumpy, old men while you wait for that boyfriend of yours?”

I nod, and I quickly put up my backpack in the garage before I come back out on the driveway to see what’s going on with Han’s car.

“What’s the matter with the Falcon? Didn’t you just tinker with it a couple weeks ago?”

“Well, it isn’t so much that anything’s wrong. We’re looking for improvements. It’s a classic car, so it needs classic treatment.”

I nod as if I understand and look under the hood with interest. “Do they still make parts for cars this old?”

Han groans as if deeply wounded, and Charlie starts laughing. “Kiddo, don’t put the Falcon and the old farts who take care of it out to pasture just yet. They still make parts for the Falcon. It’s a matter of deciding which modern upgrades might work best.”

“Sorry,” I say, winking back at them. “I didn’t mean to make you feel ancient.”

Charlie snorts, and Han laughs. “Can you believe this girl? She used to be so nice, and now she’s nothing but sass. My son’s a bad influence on her.”

This time, Han and Charlie put me in charge of the toolbox, and they talk to me about the things they’re replacing, in between asking me for the needed tools. It’s interesting, and they know so much, and they take time to explain all the details, and I can barely feel the time slipping by.

When they close the hood, satisfied with their tinkering, Charlie turns to me, eyeing me curiously. “You really like this stuff, huh?”

I give a little nod, handing him a clean rag for his hands, then one to Han. “Sorry if I asked too many questions. I don’t have much experience with engines.”

Charlie considers this for a moment, then tucks his hand rag in his back pocket.

“Hmm. Han was telling me you were looking for work. I know you’re not a mechanic—and I only hire trained, licensed mechanics for my shop—but I do need some help in the office. Think you could keep an old man organized? Make some copies, organize the schedules, greet customers, that sort of thing?”

“Wha-really? Th-that would be amazing!” I can’t believe it. “You’re offering me a job!? For real?”

Han shrugs, trying to hold back a broad grin and failing spectacularly. “Charlie kinda likes you.”

Charlie nonchalantly shrugs as if to agree. “I know you’re about to start up at school again, so I wouldn’t need you more than 10-15 hours a week. If you can’t always work, that’s fine, too. Your schooling should come first, anyway. Han says your aunt Maz wants you to finish school, and I expect your grandma Linn would have agreed with that.”

I launch myself at Charlie and hug him fiercely. He’s caught by surprise, and I feel him tentatively pat my shoulder, as if he doesn’t know how to react. I suddenly get the sense that no one has hugged him in a long time. I know the feeling.

“That a yes, kiddo?”

I look up at him and nod, and from behind me, I can hear Han chuckling. “Rey’s going to whip your office into shape in no time, Charlie.”

Charlie laughs and ruffles my hair as I pull away from him. “About time someone did. My wife used to run things, and she was great at it. Me? I’m an old wrench-turner. I’ve managed to keep it going, but I’d rather be crawling under a car and fixing stuff. Now I’ll have a little more time to spend doing what I like.”

“When can I start?” I ask, all eagerness.

I think working for a nice man like Charlie sounds too good to be true. And yet here he is, giving me a chance. And I won’t be doing manual labor, either. As interested as I am in learning about engine repair, sitting in an office and doing paper work sounds better than getting torn up doing landscaping work for Teedo back at Jakku Acres or sweating to death while burning my hands on soldering tools at Plutt’s.

“Come by tomorrow. I can show you around, and you can meet the guys who work for me. Everyone’s good people—we’re a family place, ya know? I know all their wives, all their kids. You’ll fit right in. I just wish Marcy were here to meet you. Oh, she’d love to have known you--Linn’s granddaughter. Would have made her day.”

We’re already sitting at the kitchen table, drinking Cokes when Ben walks in, tossing his keys haphazardly on the counter and coming to a stop when he sees me with Han and Charlie.

“Oh! Rey, I didn’t know you were coming over today.” He grins, all dimples and crooked teeth, and I beam back at him.

“Surprise! Finn and Rose took me swimming with them, and I figured I’d come annoy your Dad and Charlie while I waited for you.”

“Little lady, you’re far from annoying.” Charlie grins, reaching over to pinch my cheek. 

“Old man, you trying to flirt with my girl?” Ben jokes, crossing over to my side to hug me happily.

“Tryin’? Kid, we’re about to run away together.”

I giggle, and I take Ben’s hand.

Ben seems unusually buoyant today, and he looks around the table with an almost expectant look.My heart feels so light and happy. I can’t believe my good fortune—and I’d been so afraid of what Charlie may or may not know about Maz. He hasn’t said anything, and I think he would if he knew. It’s not like he’s held back any opinions thus far.

“Charlie offered me a job! I’m going to help in his office.”

Ben’s smile brightens, and he squeezes my hand. “Yeah? That’s so cool!”

He grins at Charlie briefly, but I also see the look he exchanges with his father, and I realize with a little start that my good luck has been a group effort. I suppose I should have known, but I find it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. It’s a _job_. And I’m going to show Charlie that I’m worth his kindness.

+++

Ben holds my hand as we sit idly, side-by-side, on the playground swings. Charlie had stayed for dinner again, holding court with Han while Leia worked late, but afterwards, we had begged off, wanting to be alone together.

“You asked your dad to help me, didn’t you?”

“Yep.” He looks smug, and he walks his feet sideways so he’s close enough to kiss me, before swinging away, then laughing as he crashes back into me. “I told you I’d take care of you. See how good I am at it?”

I laugh and push off him before letting my swing wreck sideways into his. “Well, I’m going to make sure Charlie doesn’t regret hiring me. He says, depending on how things go, he might start teaching me basic repairs. And he’s offering $6 an hour.”

“Is that enough?”

I consider the question for a moment. “Yeah… I get $437 a month in social, and I’ll make up to $80 a week working at Charlie’s, so $320 extra a month. Honestly, even half that will keep me going. Rent’s $250, and after utilities, that’s enough for gas, insurance, and tags for the car and trailer… and then food.”

“You were trying to live off $437 a month?” He sounds aghast, his expressive eyes alarmed. I just shrug. Ben doesn’t really know what it’s like to be poor. I’m glad he doesn’t, honestly, but it’s just one of the differences between us. He hasn’t known this existence.

“It was stretching okay until the rent hike. Maz left me some savings. I just… after losing my job and everything going on last year, the money ran out.”

Ben shakes his head. “I can’t promise we won’t be kind of poor when we get married since we’ll be in school and all, but I promise I’ll do everything I can so you’re never hungry. I’ll keep a roof over your head, Rey, no matter what it takes. You don’t need to be afraid.”

I doubt Ben knows what constitutes “kind of poor” versus “poor” but that’s a conversation for another day. It hasn’t been his life, and I’m not going to blame him for that. But I have a sense I’m going to have to teach him how to be poor when we’re first married.

“I’m not afraid, Ben. I’ll have you. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”

“You sure you won’t marry me in March?” His voice is teasing, and he tugs at the chain of my swing until I get up and go over to him and sit in his lap. His strong arms wrap around my middle. “I’d marry you today if I could.”

He sounds so certain it makes my heart hurt. It’s almost absurd how much I love him. “Ben Solo and his child bride. We’d be the scandal of Jakku High, Ben. Can you imagine?”

People’s heads exploding. Teachers fainting in the hallways. Rose and Finn and Poe going white-haired from the shock.

“Yeah, I guess a lot of people would talk about it.” Ben kisses the side of my head. “We’d probably get kicked out of school.”

“It’s going to be awful being separated from you next year, but we need everything to be legal. I don’t want to start our marriage with a lie, _and_ I want to tell your parents before. No secrets. They can’t say no when we’re both 18, anyway, but they’ll deserve to know.”

I turn my head and kiss Ben tenderly. We have so many secrets from the world already. And even a well-intentioned secret, one meant to protect and

“No more secrets. No more lies,” he whispers against my lips.

I cup his face and brush the hair back from his forehead. “How are you feeling since we got back from the beach?”

“I’m good. I have everything I want.” He touches his forehead to mine, rubbing my upper arms affectionately.

“No more bad dreams?”

Ben hesitates, then frowns, plush lips pressing together as his jaw tightens.

“Um, yeah. I’ve had more.” He shrugs nonchalantly, as if this would make me worry less about him. “And like you said, they’re only dreams.”

Ben kisses me again, more slowly, more intently.

“Who cares about dreams when reality is so good, Mrs. Solo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking extra time. I’ve been distracted by the 24 hours news cycle. I generally try to be 1-2 chapters ahead before I post another chapter, but I had no focus in my brain at all last week, so I struggled to get a chapter ahead this time. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this latest installment!
> 
> $6 an hour was above the 1998 NC minimum wage, which was $5.15. 
> 
> Purity pledges – This is a thing that exists. In this humble author’s opinion, it’s a weird thing for a group of adults to ask a young girl to sign.
> 
> ABC Afterschool Special – Before Degrassi, kids had these stories filled with social warnings about drugs and teen pregnancy. It ran from the 1970s through 1997. Rey definitely would have been bored enough to watch this stuff.
> 
> Rey’s so sassy. 
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	37. no u turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Ben takes the SAT. Lake party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. It’s over. Six weeks of SAT class, followed by another few weeks of studying on my own, and the exam is finally in the rearview mirror. Rey had spent the last week and a half quizzing me on vocabulary and algebra, kissing me every time I got an answer right, and rubbing my neck and shoulders whenever I complained that I was stressed out. This sort of incentive works wonders, for the record.

Whatever happens, happens, at this point. I brain dumped hard, and I feel considerably more stupid in the aftermath of the test, so when Poe Dameron starts hounding me about Mitaka’s damned lake party for the millionth time, I relent.

“Fine. FINE. Jeeze, will you stop!?” I grouse at him.

How he has this much energy after sitting through hours of that test is beyond me. I gather he’s planning on taking the SAT a few times this year to max his score before starting college applications next year.

“And Rey? She’s going to have to come, too. I’ve been telling her, this is her year. She has to seize the day! She needs to assert herself more.”

“To do what, exactly? It’s high school, not Hannibal crossing the Alps.”

Poe stares at me, perplexed, and I gather that quips about Carthaginian generals aren’t in his wheelhouse.

“Whatever, squatch. I just think you and your girl should enjoy yourselves a little more. Besides, it’s the last party before school starts. Before your senior year. This is it, big guy.”

He gives me a jovial punch in the shoulder, and I glower at him. Everyone’s so much more excited for my senior year than I am, and it’s more than a little annoying.

“Being a high school senior does not incur some mythic status on a person’s life. This isn’t _Dawson’s Creek_ , Dameron.”

Poe’s mouth drops open in an O of surprise, and I’m shocked for a moment of astonished silence from him.

“What?”

“I… I did not imagine you even knew that show existed, Squatch. You’re a renaissance man.”

“I have seen a TV Guide.” I can’t keep the exasperation out of my voice at this point.

“But have you watched? What do you think? Jen and Dawson? Joey and Pacey? Pacey and his teacher?”

 _Of course,_ Poe Dameron watches _Dawson’s Creek_.

“…Yeah, I gotta go. Rey’s waiting on me.”

+++

“The lake party?” Rey sounds surprised and perhaps a little dismayed. “Poe got to you, didn’t he? Every time I see him, he’s begged me to come. He’s been on some crazy bent where I ‘owe it to myself’ to have a good time.”

I groan, nuzzling my nose between her lovely breasts. “He caught me right after the fucking test. I was weak.”

Rey sighs, rubbing my back soothingly. “Beeeen, you know he could convince the devil to drink holy water.”

“Glug glug,” I mumble, making Rey laugh. She sighs, and I can hear her thinking as she drums her fingertips across my shoulders.

“Okay. Well. We’ll go out there. We’ll stick to Rose, Finn, and Poe. If the whole thing is a disaster, we can leave. And maybe the change of pace will be good. You’ve been so stressed out about the test.”

She gives my arms a loving squeeze, and I shift to kiss her, then to her side, pulling her close for a cuddle. I’d been so eager to see her after the test, to celebrate, that I’d barreled through the door of her trailer and carried her over my shoulder to her bedroom like a conquering hero newly returned from the warfront.

I’d kept her gasping and giggling and panting under me for a good part of the last hour, but now all I really want is to kiss her and keep her warm and cozy in my arms for the rest of the day. Rey smells soapy and sweet, and I inhale happily, wanting to kiss the divot behind her earlobe until she shivers. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I can convince her to help me put off thinking about the future a little bit more.

The truth is, even just hours after the test, the relief of it being over is bleeding out, and now that I’m left to wait for results and apply to colleges and inevitably leave Rey behind, I feel hollowed out. 

And the dreams aren’t helping. They’ve been flickering at the edges of my sleep, less distinct than the ones I’d had at the beach, but still leaving me frustrated and a little afraid. Sometimes I can move, finally, but Rey gets further away the more I run. Other times, I can catch up to her, hold her in my arms, and then she disappears.

I heave a melodramatic sigh into the curve of Rey’s soft neck.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be social. My mom and dad say we keep to ourselves a lot.”

Mom’s face had been kind enough when she said it, but Dad had gruffly chimed in that high school was about learning to be social with all kinds of people, not just cute little gals named Rey.

“Do they?” A ribbon of concern unfurls in her soft voice. “That’s not good…”

“I mean, they’re not upset. They just said that we’re in our own little world a lot of the time. Which, um, it’s not untrue. Especially since we started sleeping together. Not that I’m complaining.” I whisper that last bit teasingly, sliding my hand over her hip and giving a subtle squeeze.

There’s a long pause, and I can feel the weight of her thoughts. I give her shoulder a little rub to reassure her. I’ve learned that Rey really needs these touches, these caresses. They bolster her when she’s nervous, comfort her when she’s down. She’s gone too long without, I think.

“They wouldn’t… they wouldn’t try to limit how much we see each other?” Rey’s voice still holds that ripple of worry.

Rey’s been softer like this, admitting more of her need for me since I discovered her situation, and particularly since I proposed. I see it in the way she looks at me, the way she touches me.

“No. Never. They just want to make sure we’re doing all the things teenagers are supposed to want to do. They think we should be going to parties and football games and dances and stuff.” I press a kiss to her cheek, and my fingers trip down her arm until I can take her hand in mine. “I would never let them keep me from you, anyway.”

She settles and exhales a relieved little noise. “I know. I know you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Never. You’re my girl. You’re going to be my _wife_.” I emphasize the last word, kissing her neck and shoulder gently. “C’mon. Wear your ring tonight. I think it’ll make you feel better.”

I can’t lie. It’ll make me feel better, too. I like seeing it on her hand; it makes me feel like this is more than real and not one of the fleeting dreams that haunt me.

Rey reaches for her nightstand, and there’s a tiny, wooden box with carved flowers and hearts. She opens it up and fumbles for a second, then rolls over to face me, a little smile playing across her lips, holding the ring between us. “You do it.”

I take the ring from her and slide it onto the ring finger of her right hand, stroking my thumb across her knuckles. “This year might be tough on us. And next year, too. We’ll get through it, my love. Maybe Poe’s right. Maybe we should have all the fun we can.”

“Okay.” She smiles up at me, and then looks down at the little blue butterfly sitting so prettily on her finger. “I love you.”

+++

There are strings of lights all over the deck of Mitaka’s parents’ lake house and lantern lights along the shore and down the boat dock, too. It had taken nearly an hour to drive out here, and the teeming sea of teenage bodies is unreal. I’m not even sure all these kids go to our school. As soon as Rey and I tumble out of the Wagoneer, we hear the enthusiastic shrieks of Rose and Paige, who come and scoop Rey into a group hug.

“I can’t believe it! You came! You’re such a liar pants, Rey Sands! You said there was no way in hell you and Ben were coming to this. I bet you planned on it, all along,” Rose accuses excitedly. “And oh my gosh, look at your dress! Where did you get that?”

Rey had put on the sleeveless blue dress with the stripe of tropical flowers she’d picked out with my mother, and with her long legs and tan, she’s radiantly beautiful and confident in her own clothes in a way she’s never been in borrowed colors from Rose and Paige.

“It was a last-minute decision, I swear. Poe talked Ben into it, so here we are. Where is Poe, anyway?”

Paige rolls her eyes and points towards the keg on the back deck. “Attempting to do a keg stand.”

Rey giggles and grabs my hand. “We’ve got to go watch this.”

Rose and Paige trail after us, and I glance over my shoulder at Paige. “I bet you’re super impressed by the Jakku High School party scene, huh?”

Paige just snorts and rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

By the time we get to the deck, Finn is holding Poe’s legs as he does a handstand, and someone passes him the funnel for the beer. It goes about as well as expected, and Poe inhales as much beer as he consumes, but he rises in triumph, pumping his fists overhead. Paige does not look at him as if he’s won any points. Finn seems to, however, laughing brightly and high fiving his friend.

When Finn goes to take his turn, Rose’s glare is enough to make him smile, chagrined, and he changes course, instead snagging a cup of warm beer from the table by the keg.

There’s a crackle and when music suddenly starts playing from some speakers set up on the deck, and everyone starts cheering, Rey is dragged off by the Ticos to go dance. She gives me a helpless smile, and I wave her on.

“I’ll catch up to you,” I tell her, giving her a wink.

“Dude, come on. Do a keg stand!” Poe encourages me, and after taking in the dour look on my face, he holds up his hands in defense. “Okay, don’t. Sheesh. Glad you’re here, though. You and Rey are such an old, married couple, I wondered if you’d bother showing up.”

“Waaaaait a minute, Solo. That’s still going on? You and Rey?”

I hear a voice from behind me, and when I turn to glare, Kyle Katarn smirks underneath his frosted, gelled hair. Brittle tension coils in my shoulders like rusted metal springs. Kyle’s eyes glimmer with a smarminess that sets my teeth on edge.

“Yep. Me and Rey. Is that a problem?”

I take a step closer to him, drawing my shoulders back, standing a little taller, instead of casually slumped like usual to better fit into the crowd.

Kyle’s smarter than he looks because he clearly senses danger, and his brown eyes widen in fear. “Um, nope. No problem. Just… making conversation. Have, uh, have a great party.”

He shrinks back into the crowd, and Poe and Finn laugh.

“Squatch, you got a reputation! Must be from that time you dented the locker with your fist,” Finn says with a smirk, patting my back. “I think you made his balls retract in terror.”

I grab a cup of beer and follow Finn and Poe to a small firepit that’s blazing on the lakeshore. I think I can see Rey and the girls on the boat dock dancing and giggling together.

“I haven’t done anything to deserve a reputation.” I sip the beer and Poe and Finn somehow look unconvinced.

“Buddy. You’re huge. Your wardrobe is mostly black. You look like you could jerk someone’s spine out of their back with your bare hands.” Poe’s biting his lip, he’s trying so hard not to laugh.

“And you look like you wouldn’t mind doing it, either.” Finn chimes in, holding his beer cup aloft, as if he’s toasting me.

I shrug. “Doesn’t mean I deserve some reputation as a violent menace. But if any of these assholes says a word about Rey, I fucking will rip out their spine.”

Finn and Poe glance at each other and burst out laughing.

“Aaaand that’s why everyone is terrified of you,” Finn teases. “Except Rey. And us.”

I grunt. “Fine. Good.”

The two of them just cackle again.

Poe snorts, “Good lord, Solo. Does Rey have any idea how scary you are?”

I bite my lip and chew on the inside of my cheek. I know they’re joking, but the words land heavily in my brain. I sip my beer and shrug, doing my concerted best to seem casual.

“Probably not.”

The party isn’t too bad, honestly. Dopheld turns out to be pretty okay, if a little anxious. And while I occasionally get some funny looks, no one bothers with any further snide remarks.

Moments after Poe and Finn go in search of the sisters Tico out on the dock, Rey pops up by my side when someone lights up the firepit and starts handing out marshmallows on metal skewers. That’s my girl, responding to the siren song of sugar.

“Tired of dancing already?” I ask her, slipping my arm around her waist. “Or is this just a refueling stop?”

“I need fuel, and I want to hang out with you for a little while. Whatcha been doing?”

“Just hanging out with the guys. People-watching. I think they’re going to start beer pong soon, if you want to watch that.”

Rey nods happily and turns her marshmallow over in the fire until it begins to bubble and char nicely. She pulls it out and lets it cool, grinning up at me with the brightness of a summer day.

“Maz taught me how to do this. My marshmallow technique is perfect. Here, try.” Rey passes me her skewer, and I gingerly pull the sticky marshmallow off with my fingers. It’s burnt, gooey perfection in my mouth, and Rey giggles at my expression. “See? I’m a culinary genius when it comes to marshmallows.”

Gwen and Kaydel appear then to chat with us, and Rey busies herself with perfectly torching another marshmallow, this time for herself. Gwen and Kaydel ask her about her technique, and soon they’re all laughing. It’s been surprising to see the change of heart Gwen had about Rey, but then again, Gwen’s not mean or stupid, and Rey has a way with moody giants.

“Who can help move a table!?” someone shouts from inside the house, and I kiss Rey’s cheek before volunteering my services. Gwen and Kaydel laugh, saying something teasing to Rey that’s muffled by her sweet laughter.

Moments later, I’m helping Zayna Versio carry a folding table out onto the deck so people can start up a game of beer pong.

“Are you going to play, Ben?”

“Nah. I’m driving, so no more beer for me tonight. Also, it’s gross. I think I saw Dopheld’s dog with one of the ping pong balls earlier.”

She laughs and stands so close to me I have to take a step back, only for her to step close again. “You always look so gloomy, but you’re funny, aren’t you?”

Zay smiles brightly, only pausing to steal a glance toward the boat dock, and she looks up at me conspiratorially. “I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

“Um, it’s not a secret.” I start scanning the crowd for Rey, or Finn, or Poe, or even Dopheld. Rey’s not by the fire pit anymore, and I can’t see her anywhere. “I just don’t talk to that many people.”

“Don’t tell me you’re shy, Benj!” She grabs my forearm, a teasing look in her eyes. “You didn’t seem like it in class. You always had something to say during discussion.”

Oh yeah. I vaguely remember her from history class. I shrug and she eventually releases my arm. “Uh, no. I’m just, um, private. I guess. I don’t remember you talking a lot in class.”

She snorts, batting at my arm with her hand. “That’s because I don’t study. I was busy avoiding eye contact with the teacher. I learned plenty just listening to what you had to say. You study a lot, don’t you?”

“History’s interesting,” I reply, absently wondering where the hell all my friends have gotten to.

I do not know how to be in this situation, with a girl who is… is she flirting? Or is this just her being friendly? Rey was never like this... She could barely look at me that first time we went to the movies, she was so shy. The way Zayna’s looking at me is starting to make me break out in a cold sweat. I think I’d rather be back in the boxing ring in Chandrila than deal with her for one more minute.

“Well, when you talk about it, I guess,” she giggles. “Come on, Benj. Have another beer and come sit with me. I’ll let you tell me all about the founding fathers.”

“Um. They were all slave owners who disenfranchised women.”

This isn’t what she was expecting, and she takes a step back. Okay. That works. I can work with this. I can be just as charming as I need to be if it’ll make her stop giggling and touching me.

“Solo? Who the fuck let you out of your cage?”

I know that voice without having to turn around. I’d heard it often enough in Driver’s Ed, consistently shouting incorrect answers at his group members during assignments. Aggressive and dumb, nearly always, anyway, Dakk Rendar, one of Wexley’s friends, steps into my line of sight. I roll my eyes, pre-emptively annoyed. “Zookeeper dropped the key.”

Zayna laughs, high-pitched and a little shrill to my ears, and finally, _finally_ , I see Rey’s head, buns bobbing, as she weaves through the crowd toward me, face flushed and happy. Dakk makes a face as I take Rey’s hand when she’s within reach. Her hazel eyes dim just slightly enough to tell me she’s not happy to see Dakk.

He rolls his eyes in Rey’s direction. “Still with _her_? Solo, don’t you have any self-respect? Do better, man. Zay’s right here.”

Zayna rolls her eyes at Dakk and cuts a disdainful glance at Rey. My fingers flex and twitch, wanting to curl my hands into fists and beat him bloody.

Dakk’s laughing, motioning between the girls, clearly amused with himself. The difference between them is striking. They’re both brunettes, but where Rey is tallish for a girl and slender as a sapling, Zay is petite and curvy with a lush mouth and bright, assessing eyes. She’s pretty, but in a totally different way from Rey. Rey’s… she’s just Rey.

Rey tugs at my hand in a silent, gentle suggestion that we leave, but this is the second time someone’s had something nasty to say, and I drop her hand. I sense her apprehension—it brushes over the back of my neck with a shiver--but I can feel my frustration humming under my skin.

“Self-respect is why we’re not friends.”

“Oh, calm down, dude.” He holds up his hands as if to ward me off. “Fuck whoever you want. College is just around the corner.”

Nope. The hum turns into something savage, and I can no longer hear the loud music or the chatter and laughter of the other partygoers.

My fist connects with Dakk’s face with a crack, and I vaguely hear Rey’s gasp of shock. Someone screams, and I no longer have any sense of what’s going on.

Dakk reels backward, clutching his face, and as I swing at him again, I feel Rey’s hands grabbing at my arm, and her voice is a strangled cry as I shake her off.

“Ben, stop!”

I don’t stop, and when Dakk lunges back at me, punching me in the ribs as the world tilts sideways, I hear Rey call for help.

“Poe! Finn!”

Seconds? Minutes? Hours? go by and then I have two sets of muscular arms hauling me off Dakk. I don’t even know exactly when we ended up on the ground, but as the they drag me to my feet, I look down and see Dakk’s bloody mouth and swollen eye. My hand hurts, and when I look down at it, I see blood and bruised knuckles.

Shit.

I shove away from Finn and Poe, who release me and step back as if they’re concerned I’m going to swing at them next. As I try to catch my breath, wondering how I got so sweaty, my heart racing, I look around, seeing a circle of my gawking classmates, but no Rey.

Zay rushes to Dakk’s side and looks up at me in horror. I’m guessing she isn’t going to be flirting with me again anytime soon.

Pair of eyes after pair of eyes stares at me. I can feel their mounting fascination, the heat of their attention burning into me. I’m a monster. I can see it in their faces.

“Hey, nothing to see here. Dakk, you gonna live?” Poe asks, stepping in front of me, motioning for the lingering crowd to scatter.

“Fuck you,” Dakk mutters, wiping the blood from his split lip as Zayna helps him haul back to his feet. “You’re a piece of shit, Solo. Fuck. Get a goddamn grip, you fucking psycho.”

He’s holding his hand over his eye. His _eye_. Fuck.

I see a flash of Cal, bleeding and crying, screaming in pain on the sidewalk outside the boxing gym in Chandrila, his hands drenched in blood, and I feel my knees buckle slightly. If not for Finn dashing under me, I would have fallen, but he’s there, steady under my arm.

“Solo? You okay? Let’s get you out of here, buddy,” Finn says in a low, urgent voice. I suppose he’s right. If I linger, there’s a chance Dakk will come back and

I stagger a couple of steps away from the crowd, and I feel my gorge rise, and I push Finn away so I can vomit, emptying my guts in a wave of self-disgust.

I hear voices behind me, around me. _Drunk. Scary asshole. Crazy jerk. Psycho. Used to feel sorry for him. Now I feel sorry for Rey. Nutso. Anger issues. Weirdo. Creep._

When I feel a hand on my shoulder, I grunt and wave it off, slowly standing up. Poe is assessing me warily, glancing at Finn, having a silent conversation.

“Where’s Rey?” I croak, wiping at my mouth with the hem of my tee shirt. When I wipe my face with the back of my hand, I notice a streak of blood and wince at how tender my brow feels. I guess my eyebrow is split. I don’t remember getting punched in the face, but I guess Dakk managed.

Finn answers quietly. “She’s with Rose and Paige. Gwen and Kaydel hauled her away from the fight so people wouldn’t start anything with her. She fought like mad, but they made her.”

“I can get you home, big guy. Give me your keys.” Poe’s gripping my shoulder, and as shocked as I know he is by my behavior, I know he’ll still back me up. I don’t think anyone ever has before. Even Rey isn’t here right now, I think with a pulse of distress. I feel like I might puke again, and I put my hands on my knees, trying to get some air in my lungs.

“I’m not drunk. I only drank one beer, and that was an hour ago,” I mutter.

“Ben!”

I stand up immediately, and a blur in a blue dress with messy, falling apart buns crashes into me, making me groan. Okay, my ribs really hurt.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Why? Why did you do that?” she asks frantically, words tumbling out of her rapidly, and then when she looks up at my face, she pales. “You’re bleeding! He split your eyebrow! I’ll kill him.”

Rey pulls back and glares at the not-so-nonchalant crowd of people milling around, watching to see what other kind of drama they can glean from my meltdown. I’m amused to see her hackles rise like that, but Finn cuts in, pushing on my arm and guiding Rey gently towards where the cars are parked.

“We have to get you out of here. I don’t know why the hell he was even at this party. He must have crashed. There’s no way Doph invited him,” he mutters angrily.

“Squatch, you feel up to driving?” Poe asks. “You seemed a little out of it there, and you’ve been sick… your head okay?”

I fumble in my pocket and hand him my car keys so he’ll stop talking. “We gotta get Rey home first.”

Rey nods silently, and she slips an arm around my waist, looking up at my face with concern. She bites her lower lip as if to hold back what she wants to say and drops her eyes.

On the ride back into Jakku, Rey sits in the backseat with me, carefully dabbing my eyebrow with water and some clean napkins she found in the glove box. She wipes the blood from my hands—Dakk’s, apparently, and not mine. She makes an unhappy sound when I lift my shirt and we get a look at the purplish mottling of bruises over my ribcage.

“Ben, why?” she asks softly, tears welling in her eyes. “I know he was being a jerk, but he’s always a jerk. It’s sort of his thing.”

I look at Poe who is silent for once, and I see him glance back at me in the rearview mirror. And turning back to Rey, I shake my head. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of Poe.

I walk Rey to her front door, and I take her hands in mine. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ruined the party for you…”

Rey gives me the most perplexed look, her brow furrowing as she tries to puzzle something out on my face.

“I don’t care about the party. I’m worried about you… this, this isn’t like you. This isn’t the Ben I know…” Her voice cracks slightly, and I feel like I’ve failed her. “Admit it, Ben… something’s not good with you. You’ve been getting more and more stressed out since we came back from the beach.”

She should be yelling at me right now for embarrassing her, for being a violent jerk, for ruining the party for her and our friends. But instead, she’s looking up at me with a tender, worried expression, as if she can sense there’s something terribly broken inside of me.

I gently trace my thumb over her lips, and I wish desperately I could take it all back. Everything. Everything I did in Chandrila. Tonight’s fight at the party. I can’t be what she needs if I’m still that guy. She deserves so much more than that.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. I just… I guess I was just a little bit wound up after the test. I made a mistake. That’s all.” I kiss her lips lightly and reach for her hand, touching the tiny blue butterfly on her ring. “I’ll call you, okay?”

A realization drops into my mind like a heavy stone. I’m going to have to tell her about Chandrila. She’s asked, and I’ve demurred, and if I know all her secrets, maybe it’s time she knew mine. On top of everything else, I’ve been a hypocrite. Fuck.

That is the last conversation I want to have with her. I’ve felt so happy in this cocoon of her blind faith in me that I’m terrified for her to learn that I’m not so perfect. Well, I’m sure she knows I’m not perfect. She calls me a grump, albeit affectionately, at least once a week. She knows I have a temper. She knows I can be impulsive. She knows I live with nightmares.

“Ben—”

There’s a loud honk from the Wagoneer, and Poe hangs out the driver’s side window. “HEY! Lovebirds! Wrap it up. I want to go home.”

Rey sighs and turns to unlock her door. “Call when you can. I was going to go to Rose’s tomorrow, so see you after that?”

I flip off Poe and grab Rey, giving her a long kiss. Something tells me that this might be the last one for a while. The minute my mom sees my face…

+++

“Benjamin! Organa! Solo!” Mom yells when I come downstairs in the morning with my eyebrow swollen and puffy. Her hands slam on the breakfast table as she stands up in a now-rare flare of temper, a look of abject distress crossing her face. I can see the color rising in her face already.

I’d come in after they’d gone to bed, and I’d stayed in my room as long as I possibly could this morning, dreading the inevitable confrontation. And beyond that, I’d been unable to sleep, agitated over the unknown, unwilling to have that dream again, sickened by how close I’d come to really hurting someone again, and anguished that Rey’s mixed all up in it. By the time I’d mustered the nerve to go downstairs and meet my fate, I had dark circles of exhaustion under my eyes, and my skin looked waxy.

Dad’s head jerks up from behind the newspaper, and his reading glasses slip down the bridge of his nose in shock.

“Benny!”

By the time I approach the table, Mom’s already at my side, hands reaching up to hold me by the chin so she can get a good look at my injury. I decide it’s not a great time to tell her about the bruises on my ribs or bring attention to my bruised knuckles. She purses her lips, then shakes her head.

“You don’t need stitches, I think. What happened?” Her tone is terse but concerned.

Mom bustles me to a chair to sit. One sharp, meaningful glance from her, and Dad sets off to get her first aid supplies. I’ve cleaned up the wound, but Mom won’t be satisfied until she does it herself. Mother’s prerogative, I suppose.

I shuffle my feet under the table awkwardly, looking down and away from my mother’s intent gaze. She sees too much. Always has.

“Ben…” she gives me a warning note, and I look back up at her, feeling guilty and awful. She doesn’t deserve to be in this position again.

“I punched somebody. He punched back.”

Mom sinks into the chair next to mine as if she’s not certain her legs are going to hold her up. She looks so tired already. I was expecting her to explode the way she used to, snapping at me angrily while throwing her hands up in the air as she raved. I deserved it, after all. I’ve drawn blood again. Her silence… this… this is worse. When she’s rational, I have to be rational, and that’s not easy when my emotions are rolling like ocean waves.

“Why?”

I hesitate, and Mom puts her hand on my arm. Dad’s back by now, opening the first aid kit, listening quietly.

“It’s stupid. Some guy was being rude about Rey, and… I just… I lost my shit. Again.”

Mom hums slightly, dabbing at my eyebrow with gauze and antiseptic. “Rey, huh?”

I sigh. “It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t do anything. It was me. It was the second time someone had been a jerk, and…” I shrug.

“But you started it. The physical altercation.”

I can’t deny the facts, and I nod sullenly.

“How is he?”

“Busted lip. Black eye. But that’s it… I… he’s going to be fine. I didn’t…” I huff slightly, wincing as she puts something that really stings on my face. “Ow!”

“You do understand that this is a problem, Ben. You broke your hand and got suspended from school for fighting, just a few months ago. Now you’ve punched someone. From where I’m sitting, it seems like things are escalating. And it was about Rey. _Again_.”

Mom is speaking in measured tones. I know these tones. Her voice is so carefully neutral, so calm, that I know I am in deep, deep shit. Not that I’d thought this was going to go down any other way.

“Kid.”

Dad’s voice breaks through the tension, and I look up at him, feeling clammy under his scrutiny. His gaze isn’t angry, just sad.

“We’re trying real hard here, your mother and I. I was thinking that things have been alright here in Jakku. What’s going on in your head?”

Mom cuts her eyes towards Dad, and I’m not sure she likes his blunt approach, but she doesn’t add to it. She lets his words sit and looks back at me and tilts her head to the side, waiting for an answer.

I chew on the inside of my cheek, my jaw working, and I look down at my hands.

“I fucked up, okay? I’m not… I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking straight. It all… it all boiled over. I wasn’t drunk or anything, so I can’t even blame that. I can’t stand it when people pick on Rey. It just… it drives me crazy. And I’ve been having trouble sleeping again, and I’m kind of freaking out about college applications. I feel like… I feel like I’m being pulled in a hundred directions, and I’m always tense, always nauseated. I only feel okay when I’m with Rey. She’s the only thing that makes sense in my life.”

I feel my mom’s hand touch my cheek, and she gives me a deeply worried but sympathetic look I haven’t earned. I’ve only told her about half of my stress, and I can’t even tell her the other part. It’s a sick feeling, and I feel my palms growing clammy.

“So what do you think we should do, Benny?” Mom’s voice is steady, and when I meet her eyes, she gives me a wry smile and sits back. I can see the frustration in her, but also the determination to remain calm. “We’ve been here with you before. Yelling didn’t work in Chandrila. Grounding you back in May didn’t seem to work, either, because here we are again.”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not proud of what I did. Don’t get me wrong, I hate that guy… but when I saw his face, I thought of Cal, and it made me sick to my stomach. I’d rather die than maim anybody like that ever again. I’ve been sick all night over it. I guess… I guess I should apologize to him.”

Dad leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s a start. What else?”

“Um. I guess I should be grounded, huh?”

A nod from Dad. “Yep. I’m thinking a month this time. No car, no phone, no TV, no internet except for school stuff, no parties, no friends, and I hate to break it to ya, Kid, but that also means no Rey. You need to hit a reset where you can handle being around her without losing your mind if someone looks at her funny. You owe it to yourselves to be able to act right.”

A month. A month without Rey? My stomach roils uncomfortably, and I give my dad a pleading look. He raises his eyebrows at me, but there’s no pleasure in his expression.

“Dad, I can’t do that… Rey’s…” _She’s alone without me_. I can’t say it, though, and I heave a ragged breath, feeling my stomach churn in distress. I’ve really fucked up this time. So much for promises. “I need her.”

And she needs me. I don’t know how I’m going to get her groceries if I can’t see her. What if she gets hurt? What if she’s lonely?

Dad’s voice is gruff, but I hear the undercurrents of compassion.

“Son, you’ll see her at school. We’ll even let you give her a call today so you can explain. And maybe apologize to her, too, huh? I’m sure she was upset to see you get into a fight.”

I grimace, and I bury my face in my hands. I can feel my hands shaking, then my shoulders, and I feel the dam burst in my chest, and I try and fail to gulp back a sob. Fuck. I wipe at my eyes, doing my best to avoid the cut in my brow.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom’s voice soothes, and I feel her hand on my back. “I think you need this break, honestly. You’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself. Can you tell me in good faith you’re fine?”

I sniff, trying to steady myself, but I’m forced to shake my head. I want to be honest everywhere I can be. “No.”

“Let’s… let’s work on it, then. I want you to see a doctor this time, instead of a counselor. You’ve come such a long way this year, but maybe another opinion would be good. And you can get back to Rey when things are a little smoother, yes? She’ll understand, Benny. That girl loves you.”

My dad’s hand comes to rest on my shoulder, and I look up at him, miserable.

“Sorry, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dawson’s Creek premiered in 1998. It might have been something these kids were watching. Okay, Poe, Finn, and Rose are DEFINITELY watching. Rey and Ben are just trying to survive high school. They don’t need an extra dose of it. 
> 
> TV Guide – Remember buying one every week, or at a minimum buying the Sunday newspaper to get the free one? Otherwise, there was no way to know what was going to be on TV!
> 
> Did someone just pump angst into the storyline again? Who would do such a thing? The author must be a MONSTER!
> 
> Also, in the next two chapters, I'm getting into some new territory where I'm going to need to add tags and content warnings about mental health stuff. If I mis-tag or under-tag, please let me know, and I will adjust accordingly. 
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	38. road work next five miles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. Ben is grounded. Working for Charlie. A new school year begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The week before school starts drags miserably. If Tuesday is a hundred hours, and Wednesday is a hundred days, Thursday, most definitely, lasts a hundred years. Without Ben, I scarcely know what to do with all my time. Charlie only needs me to help at the garage about 15 hours a week, and with Paige going back to college this weekend, she and Rose are sticking closer to home. Even before Ben, I was always so busy with work and school and occasionally spending time with Rose and Finn that I didn’t have this much time on my hands.

There doesn’t seem to be anything to do except stare at the ceiling of my living room.

Finn and Poe have tried to drag me out with them for burgers, but I turned them down flat. Without Ben, nothing feels right. I can’t sleep, I’m not that hungry, and I can’t even focus on TV. I try to finish the last of the summer reading for Junior English, but I can’t do that, either.

At night, I pull on a tee shirt of Ben’s I borrowed that still smells a little like him, and I snuggle into my pile of pillows sadly, thinking of the phone call.

_I’m tugging my hair into buns when the phone rings on Sunday morning. My hand snaps up the phone receiver quickly, because I’ve been anticipating Ben all morning._

_“Rey, sweetheart,” Ben’s voice exhales, sounding withered, on the other end of the line before I even finish saying hello._

_“Ben, is everything okay?” I bite the inside of my cheek, and I already know things aren’t. It’s all in the sound of his voice. “Your parents… what did they say when you got home?”_

_“Um. They aren’t thrilled. They’re… they didn’t yell, but things are kind of serious here. Mom wants me to see a doctor.”_

_“A doctor? Does your eyebrow need stitches?”_

_“N-no. Head doctor. A shrink.”_

_“But… you’re not…”_

_It hangs unspoken between us. Someone can have problems without being..._

_“Don’t say it. I just… I think my mom’s right. I’m freaking out over so much stuff, and I punched someone for just mouthing off… You won’t tell anyone, will you?”_

_He sounds so pained, and I can hear the hitch in his voice that tells me he’s been crying._

_“Never, Ben. This is private. I know… I know you’ve been having a hard time. Especially since you found out about me, since we started… I feel like this is my fault.”_

_“Rey, it’s not your fault. This goes back a long way. Mom just thinks… I don’t know. I’m not handling myself well right now. She and my dad are scared I’m gonna slip back to how things were before Jakku. I’m scared, too. I need to be better than this… I can’t take care of you the way I am right now.”_

_He sounds so miserable, so dejected, my heart throbs painfully in response. He’d been so confident and so full of promises just yesterday. I’d believed him. Every word. I still do, honestly._

_“Benny, you do take care of me. You’re the other half of me.” I gentle my voice for him, determined to reassure him. “You’re always so worried about me, but you never let me do anything for you. You’ve never even confided in me about Chandrila, and I know it still haunts you. Whatever it is, Ben, I can handle it. I’ll help you.”_

_I hear him laugh under his breath and heave a ragged, ancient sigh, sounding every bit a hundred years old. He’s been so tired, so frazzled. I see it in his eyes, even when he’s cuddling with me in my bed. It’s not a good thought, but I feel like my problems have been causing him to unravel. He says it’s not my fault, but I know I’m not helping whatever’s going on in his mind with my constant worry about money and food and surviving incognito until I’m eighteen. Compared to any other girl in Jakku, I’m a black hole of need._

_“Rey, I’m not there yet. I’m sorry… I know it makes me a hypocrite. Um, I didn’t tell you the rest of my news. This is, uh, kind of our last phone call for a while. I’m grounded. For a month. No car, no phone, no anything. Except for school, I can’t see you. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really fucked up.”_

_Oh. Oh. Oh no. I close my eyes and sink into the couch. I wish the cushions would swallow me whole. “Your parents won’t make an exception? They don’t want me around you?”_

_I lean forward, cradling my head in one hand as I hold the phone receiver to my ear._

_“No. I swear it’s not about you; they love you. They just… I can’t just punch someone and not have consequences. And… uh… they think we should maybe be less, I don’t know, intense with each other.”_

_Dread fills my stomach like concrete. Han and Leia are having second thoughts about me? I know Ben couldn’t possibly tell me that. He’d never willingly hurt me, and he knows I crave his parents’ approval with all my orphan yearning._

_“Is that what you think?”_

_“Rey, no. Never. You’re my love. Can you… can you not give me a hard time about this? I want you. I’ll always want you. I promise, I’ll see you every day at school, and I’ll do whatever the doctor says. If I can get a grip on whatever this is, we’ll both be better off.”_

_“A-alright, Ben. So… I guess I’ll see you Monday at school?”_

I try to keep things in perspective. It’s not forever. I’ll see Ben in just a few days. We’ll have at least a couple of classes together, I think. Calc 2, definitely. Hopefully, we’ll have the same lunch period. But in the meantime, I don’t know how he is. I don’t know anything. He’s been so tense, and after the party, the way his shoulders had slumped, the way he’d turned inward on himself was bewildering. The guilt and the fear—fear of himself—was so apparent.

Out of desperation, before I really have time to think about what I’m doing, my fingers are dialing Ben’s home phone number, and I’m cradling the receiver against my ear. I glance at the clock hoping 9 isn’t too late to call. Okay, it’s kind of late. And it’s not even a weekend night. But I need this. I can’t do this without Ben. Maybe talking to his mom or dad will… Oh, I don’t know. I don’t even know if they’ll be willing to talk to me.

After a few rings, someone picks up.

“Organa-Solo residence.”

I recognize Leia’s crisp, professional voice. I hesitate but find my nerve.

“Oh, uh, hi, Leia!” I squeak. She’s going to be so annoyed with me. I can feel it in my bones. “Um, how are you? It’s Rey, by the way.”

Leia chokes back a slightly sad laugh and sighs. “Rey, I know it’s you. I’m fine—how are you? Ready for school to start?”

“I guess so. I picked up my schedule today, and I think all my teachers will be alright. Except Mr. Tarkin’s kind of a jerk, but nothing new there.”

“Yes, Ben said something like that, too. It’s awfully nice to hear from you, Rey, but you know Ben’s still grounded, right?”

Her tone is gentle but chiding.

“I know… I just…” I chew on the inside of my cheek for a second. “I just wanted to say hello and ask how he is. I’m sorry.”

There’s a long pause, and I can imagine Leia leaning back in her recliner, pursing her lips thoughtfully, the way she always does when she’s trying to find the right words.

“You know you’re not in trouble with Han and me, right, sweetheart? Ben just broke the rules and needs some time. We want this to be over as much as he does, and we want to see your smiley little face at our dinner table when this is done.” The compassion in her voice nearly undoes me, and I sniffle. “Are you still worried about Ben?”

“I… he was upset on Saturday, after the fight. He’s… Ben’s really stressed out about this year. Is he okay? Is he feeling better?”

“A little better, I think. He misses you, however. He’ll be glad to see you on Monday. Are you doing okay, Rey? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine… just… I miss Ben. That’s all. I’m sorry for calling so late.”

Leia huffs a slight laugh. “It’s okay, Rey. You’re allowed to call here and talk to any Solo who isn’t currently grounded. I’ll tell Ben you called to say hello. We’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Goodnight, Leia. Thanks.”

I hang up, and I let the receiver clunk onto the floor next to my bed with a sigh. Leia must think I’m ridiculous. It’s been five days since I last saw Ben, and I sound like a little girl lost in the woods. What happened to the Rey who didn’t need anybody?

+++

On Friday afternoon, Charlie plunks a Coke and a Snickers in front of me on the desk, and I startle out of my daydream.

“C’mon, little lady. Don’t be so glum. You’ll see your boy soon.”

I blush and look down at the mail I’m supposed to have been sorting. I haven’t really talked to Charlie about Ben being grounded or anything like that, but I guess he’s probably heard from Han. “Sorry, Charlie. I promise I’ll get everything done before I leave today.”

“You’re doing just fine, Rey. Office looks nice and tidy. No complaints from me.”

Charlie’s always like this. He’s always effusive, no matter what I do. The day I reorganized his filing cabinets, you would have thought I’d invented cold fusion. Even so, even with all his praise, I live in terror of disappointing him. I know he really didn’t need me in the office to help. It was messy and cluttered, but it was workable enough before I got here. I’d never want him to regret his kindness to me.

He takes a seat on the stool between the fern and the printer, smiling at me, blue eyes twinkling fondly. From the moment I started working here, Charlie’s always found time to sit with me at least a few moments and ask how my day is, how I am, and he never takes his leave without telling me to ask if I need anything. Charlie and the other mechanics trickle in and out of the office all day, grabbing keys off the hooks and cups of coffee, entering billing information in the computer, and teasing me like a kid sister, telling me all their best dad jokes.

_“Hey, Rey! You ever seen the Grand Canyon?”_

_“Not yet!”_

_“Well, it’s GORGE-ous. Get it?”_

It’s such a cozy place to work and interacting with the customers gets easier as I learn more about the kinds of auto services being done. I keep the coffee pot full. I water the fern. I tidy the office and sort the mail. I greet customers and take their payments. I answer the phone and do some scheduling, too.

The only uncomfortable moment I’ve had working the front desk of Charlie’s shop was the day Armitage Hux walked in. I’d been sorting invoices, listening to the radio and warbling along with Shania Twain when the door opened, triggering the sharp buzzer, making me jump.

He looks at me briefly, then looks at the floor as if embarrassed.

“Oh, uh, hey, Hux. Drop off or pick up?”

“Drop off for an oil and air filter change.” He finally pulls his pale blue eyes up from the floor. I can’t read the look on his face. It’s not his usual smirk, and it’s not the disdain he’s always shown for me. The closest I can think is that it’s a grimace, and I don’t know if that’s an improvement.

“Hmm.” I glance down at the schedule book, and I hop off my stool to look through the back door to see who’s in the garage. Beaumont’s back there, along with Owen and Charlie. None of them are neck-deep in an engine, and there aren’t any appointments coming in. “I think we can fit you in today. Do you mind waiting while they wrap up?”

He shrugs and hands me the keys to his car. “I’ll wait. How long have you worked here? I’ve never seen you here before.”

That might be the first and only non-hostile question Hux has ever asked me, and I think I stare at him in shock a moment too long, because he huffs and stalks to the waiting area to sit down.

“Um, just a minute. Let me tell Charlie about your car.”

After handing off Hux’s keys, I step back into the office. He’s looking sour, but I decide to answer his question anyway. He’d been trying to be polite. “I’ve only been working here a couple of weeks. Charlie’s a family friend, so he offered me this job.”

Hux doesn’t reply. Just nods.

I pause for a second, then say, hesitatingly. “Does this mean you’re going to stop bringing your car here?”

He frowns suddenly, his eyebrows knitting together. “No. Don’t be ridiculous. Charlie’s the best in town. My dad’s been coming here for years.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, thanks.” I take my seat behind the desk and get back to the receipts I’d been sorting.

“I’m not an asshole,” Hux blurts out suddenly, and I look up at him, eyebrows rising in disbelief.

At my silence, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks at his feet. “Okay, I’m not a _total_ asshole. I can’t take back anything I said or did, but I’m not going to fuck with you again, alright? You didn’t deserve any of that shit.”

Part of me wants to race to the window and look out to see if the end of days is here. Is there an asteroid coming for us? Does he have an incurable illness and he’s trying to make amends during his last weeks of life?

“Why’d you do it?” I am too shocked to be hostile. But I’m also not going to let him off the hook, either.

There’s a long silence and I think he’s not going to answer me. It yawns between us, and he suddenly sighs, sounding as cantankerous as ever. “I was jealous. I liked you, but you would never talk to me. You were always so stand-offish, even though I’d see you talk to Poe. And then you and Snap… and… I… it made me mad that you’d pick someone else. It felt good to be mean to you. Like it was your fault and not my fault for being…”

He motions helplessly at himself with his hands and just sags into the chair, all lanky limbs and floppy red hair.

“Oh.”

What the hell? Where is Armitage Hux and who is this impostor? Where is the arrogant smirk? Where’s the smarmy attitude and nasty words?

“So. I won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“Is this because you want the photos back?” I ask, my brow furrowing doubtfully as I study him. It’s Hux. Who hasn’t said anything nice to me that I can recall. Ever.

“Fu—no. I mean, I would like them back. But I don’t expect anything back. I just… Let’s call it a truce, okay?”

“A truce.” I mull it over, studying his agonized expression. No, I don’t think I’ll ever be anything like a friend to Hux. He has too much cruelty in him—something that maybe is waning or better directed these days—but he helped Snap destroy my reputation without a moment’s hesitation. I can’t forgive him. But if he wants us to coexist without antagonizing each other, I’m willing.

I stick my hand out towards him. “I think a truce is a great idea.”

Hux rises and crosses to the front desk and stares at my hand like it might strike out at him like a viper or pull back with a quality “psych!” moment, as if I’m some demented 3rd grader.

His hand is clammy as he grips mine, and we shake hands, making eye contact. And just as quickly, he drops my hand and retreats.

In another 20 minutes, Charlie’s done with Hux’s car, and I ring him up at the register and send him on his way.

As he leaves, he gives me a glance over his shoulder and one of his patented dyspeptic looks. “See you Monday, Sands.”

+++

Usually, when things aren’t too busy, Charlie lets me come in the garage with him and watch some of the repairs while he explains how everything works. The office door triggers a buzzer sound in the garage, so it’s quick enough for me to run and greet a customer, if need be.

So when my work is done, all the receipts and invoices organized, all the call backs made for repair pick-ups, and all the sundry little tasks I’ve begun to take over, I venture into the garage, surprised to find Charlie underneath my car. I’d been so pre-occupied with my work, then just bewildered after my encounter with Hux, that I hadn’t noticed him taking my keys and pulling the ancient Ford Escort into the garage.

At the sound of my footsteps, Charlie calls out to me. “That you, little lady? I guess I got caught. Just wanted to change your oil and air filter, see if anything else could use a bit of a tune-up.”

“Yep, it’s me. You didn’t need to do that for me, Charlie, I know how. I’ve done it plenty.”

He grunts and slides back out on the little dolly, wiping his hands on a rag before standing back up with a mighty, bearlike groan. “No need. Consider it a back-to-school gift.”

I scuff the toe of my sneaker, wondering, as always, at the open sincerity of this big, hairy man. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Charlie wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I know you’re plenty smart and capable, but I’m an old-fashioned fella, and sometimes I think it’s good to treat a little lady like a lady.”

I give him a tight hug and a playful smile, feeling a pulse of affection for him. “You’re just old, not old-fashioned.”

“That’s the thanks I get?” He laughs and shakes his head. “Han’s right. You are a sassy one. That’s the only way to survive around a Solo, anyway. They like strong-minded people. Well, you know Leia. Doesn’t get much stronger-minded than that!”

“I was a little scared when I first met her,” I admit. “She was so confident and smart. I thought she would think I wasn’t good enough for Ben.”

“You? Not good enough? Girly, I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but I don’t like that kind of talk one bit.”

Charlie snorts, and he hands me the keys to my car. “Leia’s a good judge of character. She met a stuck-up, scruffy-looking flyboy, and she saw the brave, smart, kind-hearted man underneath. And she sees the intelligent, good-hearted girl you are.”

I give him a brief smile, taking pleasure in his praise. “Thanks again, Charlie. For everything.”

“Eh, you’re doing me the favor, Rey. Anyway, let’s get outta here. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than listen to an old man ramble. And I told Han I’d drink a beer with him and stare at the Falcon’s engine.”

+++

As soon as I step off the school bus Monday morning, amidst the hundreds of students pouring onto the sidewalk in front of the main building, I realize I’ve jumped into the cold abyss again. The relaxed haze of my summer idyll is officially over.

There are eyes everywhere, watching. Lips curl in disdain or smirks as I weave through the crowd. Last year’s rumors have swept out to sea only to crash back to shore with the inevitable post-lake party gossip. I don’t know why I thought anything would be different this year. I can feel the prickle of apprehension on the back of my neck.

No one’s said anything to me, but I know this atmosphere. After last year, I can sense malignant high school gossip the way a squirrel can sense a hawk circling overhead.

Another year of whispers and snide remarks. That’s fine. I can do this. It’s my normal.

I rub my hands nervously on the legs of my jeans. Old jeans with torn out knees, but at least the shirt is a new one, thanks to Leia.

I make my way to the courtyard, and I shift nervously from foot to foot until I see Rose, Finn, and Poe headed toward me. They look happy to see me, but their vibe is off. The smiles are forced, and the enthusiasm is strained. Even Poe, who always looks like he’s just heard a great joke, looks discomfited.

“Peanut! Good to see you!” Finn shouts with purposeful exuberance, throwing up a hand for me to high-five.

“Uh, you sure about that?” I make an exaggerated side-to-side glance with my eyes at the other teenagers milling around, and my friends laugh.

“We’re sure,” Rose chimes in, coming in for a tight hug. “People are still buzzing about the party. Boredom’s a crazy thing.”

I shrug my shoulders as if I don’t care one bit. “No one’s talked to me, but that’s pretty normal. Welcome to my universe.”

“Can I get a refund?” Poe asks brightly. “Or a ticket to another universe?”

“Sorry, Poeseph. You’re stuck now. The ‘Rey Sands High School Experience’ is like sticky fly paper.” I give his shoulder a consolation pat. At least with my friends here, I don’t need to fake a brave face. Just knowing they’re here helps. “Have you seen Ben?”

“Who, me?” rumbles a low voice from behind me, and I turn to see my very favorite face in the world. Crooked face, big ears, plush lips, and all. His hair is shorter than it was the last time I saw him, something I’m sure his mother insisted for the first day of school, and his ears poke out awkwardly, no matter how he’s tried to cover them. He has a ghost of a smile on his face and shadows under his eyes.

I don’t care about the looks and whispers from other students. I don’t care if our friends are there. None of that matters, and I launch myself into his arms, hugging him fiercely until the rest of Jakku slips away. There’s only Ben. The feel of his arms around my waist and his lips brushing over mine are my only reality. That is, until Mrs. D’acy wanders by and clears her throat, looking pained at already having to dole out a reprimand.

“PDAs aren’t acceptable behavior. I see this again, and it’s detention for both of you.”

I redden and pull away from Ben, and our friends, who had politely meandered away to give us a moment, glance back, shaking faux-scolding fingers at us.

Ben looks down at his watch. “Shit. We only have ten minutes before the bell. C’mon.”

Rose winks at me before Ben takes my hand and we pull further away from our friends. Teachers are everywhere this morning, as if establishing their authority either happens on the first day of school or not at all.

“How are you? Is everything okay? I…” I flush slightly, feeling the chaotic rush of emotions, the fear I’d sensed but hadn’t really acknowledged until now, and now I’m shaking. Ben’s large, warm hands cover mine comfortingly.

“I’m fine. I, uh, I can’t say much right now. Too many people around. I’ve really missed you. I can’t believe I’ve got three more weeks of being grounded.”

I groan miserably. “Don’t remind me. At least now we get to see each other every day. You’re really okay, though? Your eyebrow looks good…”

Ben gives me a wry smile, and I get a better look at his face. He looks tired but more… I don’t know. More in control? Less powder-keg-like? Maybe that’s all just wishful thinking. He’s probably just in a good mood today. It’s been a week since the fight, and he’s had plenty of time to cool down.

“It’s fine. What about you? Do you need anything? You’re okay? Mom said you called…”

I shake my head. “I’m fine, I swear. Charlie’s been really great to me while I moped all week.”

Ben laughs, and I feel a strange pressure in my soul relax at the sound. “Yeah, Charlie said you missed me. Or, as he put it, he’s stuck in the middle of a teenage romance and watching you pine is now his burden in life.”

“I did not pine!” I declare haughtily, lifting my nose into the air.

“I think you did,” he teases me. “I did.”

“Alright, fine.” It’s so good to see that crooked smile and his charming dimples. I know that whatever he was feeling can’t be over, it hasn’t been over the whole time I’ve known him, if I’m being honest, but right now, he’s smiling, and I can see his earnest affection in his eyes, warm like sunshine.

“What lunch do you have? Please say second lunch.”

“Second lunch. Meet me in the atrium? I know everyone will understand if we eat alone today,” I say softly, interlacing my fingers with his.

“Do you think they’re serving square pizza and corn today?”

“One can only hope.”

+++

I’m starving by lunch, and I’ve never been so grateful for square pizza in my life. Ben and I find as secluded a spot as we can outside the cafeteria, and when he thinks no one is looking, he presses a quick kiss to my cheek.

“PDA? Such a rebel, Ben Solo,” I tell him teasingly.

“That’s me. The bad boy of Jakku High School.” He sighs, tiredly, and he touches my hand, sliding his thumb over my ring finger. We’ve agreed that I should never wear my ring to school. Even on my right hand, it’s better not to invite questions. I probably shouldn’t have worn it to Mitaka’s party, but it’s easier to explain when dressing up, at least.

“The rumor mill never rests, does it?”

The sidelong glances from other students have continued all morning. Some have even tried to drag me into conversation by coyly asking if I’d gone to any parties lately. Bazine, who’s barely spoken to me since 8th grade, took a much more direct approach.

_“Rey! Rey!”_

_I hitch my backpack and glance over my shoulder, astonished to see Bazine Netal, of all people, running towards me, eyes wide. For once, her disdain for me is overridden by curiosity._

_“Uh, hey, Baz. What’s up?”_

_“Is it true?” she gasps out, clasping my arm. “Did Ben Solo punch Dakk because of you?”_

_I wrench my arm back out of her grasp. “None of that is your business! What the hell is wrong with you?”_

_“Well, everyone’s talking about Mitaka’s party saying Ben’s a violent nutcase. And we all know you’re dating him. I figured I’d just go to the source.”_

_She shrugs as if this is all perfectly ordinary, and I can’t recall why I was ever friends with her, even if it was just elementary school and middle school._

_My temper flares, and I take a step toward her, forcing her to take a step back. “Fuck off.”_

_Baz has the nerve to look offended, and she pokes a finger into my chest. “You better watch what you say to me. I have a lot more friends than you do.”_

_“So why bother with me? Is your life that boring?”_

_“I don’t know, Rey. Everywhere you go, there’s drama. I think you must like it, messing around with guys and playing the victim until you lure in your next catch.”_

I don’t think I’ve ever had such a strong impulse to slap anyone in my entire life. My whole arm vibrated with the need to draw back and crack the palm of my hand on her cheek. But I’d walked away, listening to her snark behind my back _, “Well, that’s what I thought.”_

Ben and I sit, shoulder to shoulder, and the comfort of his body warmth, even on a hot August day, helps soothe me. After a moment of attempting to chew through the strangely leathery pizza square, he glances down at me, his voice suddenly terse, his expression turning dour. I know this face. It’s his grumpy sasquatch face.

“I don’t care about the rumor mill. I only care about what’s true and what you think.”

“They’ll calm down. There’s always a new scandal just around the corner. I didn’t think they’d hop straight from me to you…” I industriously open my chocolate milk carton and blot a layer of grease off the top of my pizza with a napkin. “Anyway, enough about them. I only want to know about what happened to you last week.”

Ben seems to fold in on himself a bit, his face growing even more glum. “Um, well, things are okay with my parents. They’ve… they’ve been weirdly calm. They went with me to Dakk’s house to apologize. That sucked. His dad’s a serious jerk, but I guess anyone would be mad if their kid got punched. But I think he’s always kind of awful. Dakk’s not going to file charges, so that’s good news. Something like that could keep me out of college.”

“Any apologies from him?”

Ben snorts. “Nope, but his black eye is good enough for me.”

“Ben!” I laugh a little and nudge his arm with my elbow. “You’re terrible. Even if he did have it coming. What about the doctor? Did you go yet?”

Ben drops his head slightly, closer to my ear, his low voice a whisper. “Um, yeah. Twice. Mom played the Colonel card to get me in fast, and I think he knows my Uncle Luke. So, I’m a priority patient. He thinks he might be able to help me. He made me take a bunch of tests, and he ran bloodwork on me and stuff. So, uh, we’ll see. I see him again tomorrow to go over results and talk.”

He seems to exist somewhere between uncertainty and determination, I think, as I study his face. He’s already done so much counseling with his family, and I realize the difference now is that he’s on his own. Whatever it is inside him—the sadness and anger and endless worry—it’s deeply personal. His parents can’t fix it for him or even with him. And neither can I. I wonder briefly, if that’s how Ben feels about me. Stuck on the sidelines because my problems are too big to fix, leaving him filled with a sense of futility. Because that’s how I feel right now.

He looks around, his eyebrows knitting together pensively. “Actually, can we not talk about this here? I don’t want anyone to hear. I only want you to know any of this.”

I nod slightly, poking at my food. The corn is cold and inexplicably greasy today. One of the kernels is gray. I’m not a picky eater, never having had the luxury, but even I’m a little weirded out. Ben must either feel the same way or simply be too morose to eat, because his tray of food is largely untouched. Honestly, everything feels wrong. It feels wrong to be so constrained with him, and for a second, I feel a pulse of resentment towards the entire institution of school.

“Ben, I wish we could find some place private to talk. It’s hard to wait when I have so much I want to ask.”

I want to know about Chandrila. I want to know what the doctor has to say. I want to know if Ben’s okay, what he’s thinking, everything. I peel back the foil on my fruit cup. Half a cherry and some nebulous chunks of peach and pear swim in a sugary syrup.

Ben grumbles a little and exhales a pained sigh. “I know. I… I owe you. I really miss you. I have a hard time sleeping at night when I haven’t seen you or heard your voice. I’m too worried. You have everything you need?”

I lean into him, and I rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t want to add to his worries, so I don’t tell him I’m not sleeping much, either.

When I speak, my voice is soft. “I’m doing alright. I’m safe, and I have enough food. I’m just lonely without you. I need my Ben.”

He leans his head on top of mine, and I feel a guilty-sounding sigh escape him. “I’m sorry. I said I’d never leave you alone, and I already messed up.”

What am I going to do with this solemn boy who breaks my heart with his sweetness?

“You didn’t mess up anything. It’s not forever. We get to share these romantic school lunches and passionate sessions of Calc 2, followed by the always very sexy Health class. Admit it. Could be worse,” I tell him, making my voice as playful as possible.

The more I consider it, the better it sounds, even if I started out joking. Except for Driver’s Ed, Ben and I never had a class together before. This is already better than last year. Okay, so an afternoon of advanced calculus under the stony glare of Mr. Tarkin isn’t anything the poets would consider a lovers’ tryst, but for Ben and me, it’s weirdly perfect.

“Ooooh, Health. Are we going to talk about the endocrine system? Such a turn on.”

I glance around to make sure there are no teachers lurking, and I sneak a peck on Ben’s cheek, making him smile just a little.

+++

The week goes far too quickly for my liking. Ben and I usually eat lunch together, but sometimes we join Rose, Finn, and Poe. Some of the weird looks and whispers fizzle out by the end of the week, even though people continue to keep their distance from Ben and me. I guess two boys fighting at a party isn’t lurid enough to keep everyone’s interest, even with the connection to me and my reputation as a tramp.

After lunch, we endure the last two class periods of the school day together. Alphabetical seating works in our favor for both classes, and Ben and I end up sitting next to each other. The other students generally avoid making eye-contact with us, shifting away to make conversation with each other. I don’t much care, because I can always lean back in my seat, and Ben will idly brush his fingers against the back of my arm.

Mr. Tarkin wastes no time in Calc 2, and he assigns tons of homework starting from the first day, making all of us groan. Even though I’ve caught him glancing at us a few times, Hux pointedly ignores Ben and me when we walk past him on our way out of the classroom after the bell rings, shuffling his stack of notebooks so he doesn’t have to interact with us. I guess this is what counts as a truce.

And every day, as soon as the final bell rings at the end of Health class, Ben walks me to the bus loop, holding my hand tenderly. His dad drives him to and from school every day, just like before Ben had his license. It’s not strictly part of the grounding agreement, but Han always seems to arrive after the buses leave. I suspect he’s purposely giving Ben and me a few stolen minutes together, and I silently thank that grinning scoundrel.

On Friday afternoon, we’re quiet, knowing we have a whole weekend to face without each other. Ben’s been silent about his doctor’s appointments, and I don’t want to pry into anything he’s not ready to share. I do know that he’s seemed resigned and fretful the last few days.

I wish terribly that I could kiss him, but there are too many teachers and students milling around. Instead, I press a folded piece of paper into his hand, which he looks at with some confusion.

“What’s this?”

He turns the triangle over in his long fingers, studying it with interest before looking down at me with warm eyes.

“Um. Well, I wrote you a letter. I won’t get to talk to you again until Monday…” I flush slightly, looking away from him and down at the scuffed toes on my sneakers. Because there are always eyes on us at school, there are just so many things left unsaid between us this week. “It’s not anything important, I just… I really miss you.”

“Why so shy, sweetheart?” he asks, amused, catching at my hands until raise my eyes to his face again. He lowers his voice, gentle in his reassurance. “I love that you wrote me a letter. Should I read it right away, or…?”

“Whenever you have time.” When I steal a glance at Ben’s face, I am dazzled by the openness of his smile. Charming and crooked, and with such open, obvious affection that my thread of worry that he’d think I was silly or melodramatic for writing him a love letter flutters away on the wind. “Ben, I--”

The bus rumbles to life behind me, and I look at him sadly. “I’ll see you Monday.”

Ben’s hands twitch as he lets mine go, and he lingers on the sidewalk as the bus pulls away, watching my face through the bus window as if he’s trying to memorize it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of plot, just a little character-building. These things happen. 
> 
> My father is the source of that awful Grand Canyon joke. 
> 
> Hux redemption? Kind of, sort of!
> 
> Also, Ben’s attitude toward treatment for his mental health is era-typical of the late 90s. There was (and continues) to be a lot of stigma around mental illness, so it’s not something a lot of people would have been open about. If you have concerns about my approach to this in the story, please reach out. Everything here is based on my own experiences and observations, but I'm absolutely open to feedback. I'm not here to hurt anyone.
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	39. photo-enforced intersection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. Rey’s letter. Ben’s diagnosis/session with Dr. Lawrence Santekka. SAT results. Reunited and it feels so goooood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By Sunday night, I’ve read Rey’s letter a hundred times. My fingers brush over the page of notebook paper, tracing her signature at the bottom. Her handwriting isn’t elegant, but it’s neat and precise, the same in a letter to me as in her calculus notes.

_Dear Ben,_

_Yes, I’m sitting right in front of you in Health class writing you a letter. I’m glad we’re in Health together, but I’m also glad this is only for one semester. Learning that drugs are bad and apples are good isn’t really new information._

_I hope the teacher isn’t going to make us carry around sacks of flour and pretend they’re babies. They made us do that in middle school, and all I really learned was that one shouldn’t get a bag of flour wet or let certain boys anywhere near a bag of flour with a pair of scissors. After the fifth flour bag baby “died,” the custodians asked that our teacher not do this assignment again._

_I’m sure you’re riveted. Anyway, I just wanted something to give you before the weekend started. I wish I were more poetic but writing never was my strong suit. So I’ll just be plain—I miss you. I miss your touch, I miss talking to you, I miss just being at your side. I’m glad to be back to school, but sometimes when I walk through the hallways, it all seems so small after the summer we just had. Our lives, our life together, I feel like it’s so much bigger than this place._

_I can’t wait for your grounding to be over. Just two more weeks. There’s still some good weather left for the year. Do you want to go to the river and swim one last time for the season?_

_I realize this is kind of a goofy love letter. I haven’t written one before, so I’m not really sure how it’s supposed to go. Was I supposed to write a poem? Was I supposed to spend the entire thing talking about my feelings for you or how I love to gaze soulfully into your eyes or something like that? Was talking about flour babies weird?_

_I do love you, more than the stars in the sky. I don’t think the English language has the words I require to express how I feel about you._

_Anyway, there’s only a minute left, and I want you to have this note before the weekend starts._

_I love you._

_Yours, always, forever, etc.,_

_Rey_

In every word, I can see her shy smile and the way her dimples deepen in the moments before she laughs. She’s funnier than she knows, smarter than she knows, more beautiful than she knows. Stronger than she knows.

I worry so much about caring for her, making sure she’s always protected from the world, but the reality is, she’s my refuge, too. She’s every dream I’ve ever had. And now she’s at the core of every fear I’ve ever had.

I want to be better. For me. For her. For my parents.

I turn over the orange prescription bottle in my hands. When the psychiatrist had suggested it on Tuesday, I’d blurted out that I didn’t need drugs to feel better, but my mother had put her hand on my shoulder, stilling my outburst. She’d told me it was my decision, but it was one she wanted me to think about carefully.

The doctor says it’s not forever, most likely. It’s just something to help while I learn how to cope and while I go through the therapy sessions with him to recalibrate my brain. Sometimes a brain needs to be retrained to deal with certain kinds of stresses.

_“Well, Benjamin, your bloodwork came back clean. There are no underlying conditions I can ascertain from your examination, either.”_

_Dr. Lawrence Santekka flips the file closed, and he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I’ve reviewed the forms I had you fill out last week, as well. Must have felt like quite a gauntlet, going through all that, hmm?”_

_“Yeah. It was all pretty thorough. I mean, I’ve done some of this before in counseling. Feelings evaluations and stuff.”_

_“My hope here is to take an even deeper approach. Your mother tells me you’ve made a great deal of progress with therapists in the last year. Do you feel that’s true?”_

_I shift slightly and shrug. “Yeah. I don’t hate my parents anymore. And I’m doing better in school. I have friends. A girlfriend. Like… um, I’m functioning. I kind of wasn’t before.”_

_“But you’re still struggling. I saw in your self-evaluation that you sometimes feel hatred for yourself, because of the things you did in Chandrila. Is that true? Do you hate yourself?”_

_My mouth drops open. His eyes are steady on mine, unwavering in this challenge. He’s not combative. But he’s asking me to take a hard look at myself and what I feel. The anger management classes in Chandrila were about identifying and controlling my anger. The family counseling has been about learning to understand and communicate with each other. I’m grateful for those lessons, but they haven’t quashed the roil of emotions and the endless worrying that ride shotgun in my brain every day._

_I feel for the first time that maybe this is going to work._

_“Sometimes. When I think about the past. And then when I lose control, I’m terrified I’m going to be that person again.”_

_Dr. Santekka just nods, as if he’d expected that answer. “I’m going to give you a list of questions. Study it, and then tell me what you think.”_

_Do you worry about things before they happen?_

_Abso-fucking-lutely, I do._

_Do you worry about friends, school, or activities?_

_Yeah. I worry about my girlfriend. College. Everything._

_Do you fear for your safety or your parents’ safety?_

_Not lately, but when they were deployed._

_Do you refuse to go to school?_

_In Chandrila, but not anymore._

_Do you experience muscle aches or tension?_

_Muscles can be relaxed? This is new information. If not for Rey, I’m not sure I would have been able to move the week before the SAT._

_Do you have sleep problems?_

_Terrifying nightmares, check._

_Do you exhibit clingy behavior with family members?_

_Mostly just clingy with Rey…_

_Are you irritable?_

_I’m known as a grump. That might just be my personality, if I’m being perfectly honest._

_Are you unable to relax?_

_I can only relax with Rey._

_After reading the list, I look up at him and nod. “This kind of sounds like me. What is it?”_

_Dr. Santekka sits back, steepling his fingers under his chin. “Well, let’s talk through it. Give me some details.”_

And here I am now. With a prescription and a shiny new diagnosis for Generalized Anxiety Disorder and two therapy appointments a week. And still two damn weeks to go until I can have Rey back in my life in the way I need her. Confidante. Friend. Lover. Soulmate.

+++

Monday, with just 10 minutes before lunch ends, I tug Rey into an alcove in the library, and I press a kiss to her lips gently. It’s a risk, but I haven’t kissed her properly in way too long, and it’s beginning to wear on me. When we pull apart, her face is rosy and happy. Her hazel eyes sparkle as they study my face as if I’m a particularly interesting equation.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“I loved your letter. I wrote you one, too.”

Mine’s not folded in that fancy way all girls seem to know how to do instinctively, but Rey takes it eagerly. “Are we pen pals now?”

Her voice is teasing, and I brush my thumb over her lips. I shiver a little when she kisses my thumb. “Yes. I just… there’s no good place to talk here, and there are some things I want to tell you.”

She looks worried, but I shake my head. “All good. I swear. I just want to tell you what’s going on with my doctor. And, you know, that I miss you like crazy and I’m counting the hours until I’m done being grounded. And until I can get you alone in your trailer.”

That last bit I whisper with a wicked that makes her bat at my arm in playful protest.

I look over my shoulder and lean in for a quick kiss, only to hear the loud throat-clearing of the disgruntled librarian, who has just rounded the aisle of books, and is peering over her bifocals at us with a disapproving glare. I sigh, and Rey reddens, covering her face with her hands before scurrying away.

“Rey, wait!”

The librarian shushes me, and I hold up my hands in apology, and I bolt after Rey.

+++

I slide into the Falcon with a sigh after school on Friday. I’ve just seen Rey off on the bus for what I hope is the final time since my punishment is supposed to be over after Sunday. I have another letter from Rey in my pocket, one that I’ll read the moment I get home, alone in my room. And after that, I’ll fold it carefully and put it in the shoebox under my bed where I’m keeping all her letters. After two weeks, I have quite a collection.

Rey’s written down terrible puns and jokes. She’s recounted stories from her childhood. She tells me about her unexpected truce with Hux. She’s even drawn some sweetly detailed little sketches of the two of us holding hands on the beach. And in every letter, she tells me she loves me. She never tries to be poetic about it. It’s always stated frankly. Rey loves Ben.

I’d been so nervous to see her reaction to my first letter. I’d told her about the diagnosis, about the meds, about the kind of therapy. I’d rambled for two pages about how much I loved her and missed her. And the next day, when she’d met me in the courtyard before first period, she held my hand and gave it such a squeeze, it was like her love and her life energy poured into me, giving me some of her strength. I’d felt inexplicably amazing the rest of the day.

“Well, how was your week, kid? Just a couple more days and you’re a free man.”

Dad ruffles my hair, making me grumble, and he just laughs. I think the question about being a grouch was definitely a red herring in Dr. Santekka’s assessment. I was born irritated, and I think I’ll stay that way, no matter how much therapy I have.

“I think I’m ready to have some freedom again.”

“You’ve done great this month. I’m real sorry you had to miss out on seeing Rey, but I am proud of you. You’re working damn hard. Harder than just about any kid I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks. I swear, I really am trying. I think maybe the medication is helping.” It’s been a couple of weeks now. I’m still worried about everything under the sun, but it’s less intense. I can interrupt the negative thinking with positive thinking a little more. It’s hard. But I suddenly feel like it’s possible to change. “Being grounded has definitely sucked. I hate that Rey got punished, too, in a way. But that’s my fault.”

“She doing okay? She hasn’t called back…” Dad’s voice holds a hint of concern.

He sounds worried on that account, and I shake my head, smiling ruefully. “She said she felt embarrassed. She felt bad bothering Mom.”

“Well, she didn’t bother your mother one bit. We know you two are sweethearts. We may be old, but we understand young love. We vaguely remember what it’s like.”

He snorts a little and winks at me.

It’s so much more than that. I wish I could tell him, but I just smile and shrug.

After a few minutes of silence, Dad clears his throat, then motions at the glove box briefly. “Hey, look in the glove box, Benny. Something came in the mail for you.”

I pull out a letter. From the College Board. SAT results. It’s been nearly 4 weeks, and I’ve been getting edgy. I clutch the envelope, staring at it.

“What do I do?” I say, as afraid of not opening it as I am of opening it to discover bad news.

“Do you want to wait for your mother to get home? We can do that if you like.”

“N-no. Fuck it. I’m going to open it now.”

If Dad’s shocked by my language, he doesn’t say anything as I rip open the envelope to pull out the score report. I close my eyes for a second, and then I look to see what’s printed.

1530.

I got a 1530.

I collapse against the car seat, closing my eyes in gratitude to the testing gods. I’m going to get out of Jakku, and I’m going to take Rey with me, and we’re going to have this whole life together.

“1530, Dad.” I open my eyes, and I can tell he has no idea if that’s good or bad. “That’s out of 1600. It’s good. Really good. I’m going to be able to get into something better than clown college.”

“Seems like a waste of big feet,” he jokes briefly, before grinning at me. “So you did good? My son’s going to be a college boy? No Solo’s ever gone to college, kid. You’ll be the first. I mean, your mother went, of course. But no one from my side ever did.”

I decide to try my luck a little. “Any chance I can get off the hook early, maybe tell Rey and take her out?” I try to give Dad my most winning grin, as if wholesome, virtuous celebration is anywhere in my mind.

Dad laughs. “Nice try, Benny boy. You’ve got two days left on your prison sentence. She’ll keep, son. We’re going to see this thing through.”

+++

Mom is ecstatic to hear the news. After she whoops, she holds me in a tight hug, kissing me on each cheek, leaving lipstick prints, and she tells Dad to order any kind of pizza I want to eat.

“Ben—a score like that, and with your improved grades and volunteer work, you’ll have plenty of choices. You’re sure you want to stay in North Carolina?”

Her eyes study my face as I answer. I don’t sense she’s trying to push me one way or another. I think she wants to know what I’m planning on doing so she can throw her whole support behind me. She’s got that determined look on her face.

“I’m sure. Lots of good schools here, and, um… I don’t want to move far away from Rey. She says she’d like to move away from Jakku, maybe, after she graduates. She’s starting to think she might try to go to college, if she can find someone to help Maz out.”

Mom grabs my hands and pulls me to sit at the kitchen table with her while Dad looks on, the pizza flyer in his hand. “Benny. Before I say anything else, I want to make it clear that I adore Rey, and I’m happy she’s in our lives. Alright?”

I nod, feeling a lump in my stomach.

She pats my hand slightly, as if giving herself a moment to gather her words. “You need to go to the college that’s best for you. If you want to stay in North Carolina to be closer to her, I understand the impulse. But this is your future, and Rey, well… she’s your high school girlfriend, as wonderful as she is. You’re going to spend at least four years in college, and it needs to be a place where you can study what you need to achieve your goals.”

This is probably not a great time to tell her the main goal I have is marrying Rey. I try not to be offended by mom calling Rey my “high school girlfriend” as if she’s merely a first love and not a last love.

“It will be. I want to go to a big school where I’ll have tons of options, and there are plenty of schools like that here. Besides, you and Dad will probably still be in Jakku for at least another year, right?”

“I wish I could say I knew for sure. My assignment is up next summer, and I don’t know if I’ll be assigned to a different command on Fort Windu or if they’ll move me along to another post. Just finding an assignment that would guarantee me two years in one spot without deployment risk was a miracle, Ben.”

“Then I may as well stay here. There’s no telling where you’re going, and I don’t want to guess.” 

I frown, studying my hands. But I take a deep breath and look between my parents, and they just shrug in acknowledgement. We all know I can’t count on them to stay put, and there’s no use pretending.

“That’s more than fair. We’ll get your applications started this weekend. And in the meantime? We need to get your senior portraits done. And I want you at every school dance, young man. Take Rey to Homecoming, Winter Ball, the Spring Fling, the Prom, whatever it is that happens. I want photos of you all dressed up with your high school sweetheart. There’s no telling what life will be like for any of us twenty years from now, and you’re going to want these pictures. I can guarantee you that much.”

Mom hugs me fiercely, again, just about knocking me out of my chair, and I hear her sniffle, then gulp back a sob, then fail to gulp back the next one, until she’s shaking she’s crying so hard.

“You grew up too fast, Benny. I’m so proud of you.”

Dad’s eyes bulge, and as I hug mom, he comes over to extricate her from my arms, turning her around to comfort her tenderly as she cries. It’s always shocking to see my mother cry, and I can tell Dad’s just as rattled. We’re used to her yelling, scolding, instructing, laughing, and every other thing. But Mom’s not one to crumple in tears.

“Now look what you did, kid! You made your mother cry! God knows the only thing worse than you _not_ going to college is you _going_ to college!”

Mom snorts a watery laugh into Dad’s chest, and I see him relax at the sound.

I don’t know if I’m prepared to go to any school dances, but I figure I can at least get dressed up with Rey and have pictures done if it would make Mom happy.

But Homecoming? And Prom? And what the hell is a Spring Fling?

+++

On Monday, I can drive myself to school again in my old Wagoneer. When the final bell rings, Rey and I race across campus to the student parking lot, through the streets of Jakku, and we tumble into her trailer, kissing and touching each other frantically. We toe off our shoes but because we can’t stop groping one another, Rey stumbles, and when I go to catch her, I lose my balance and we collapse onto the carpeted living room floor, causing the whole trailer to shake.

Rey laughs and kisses me warmly, tracing the seam of my lips with her tongue. It’s been more than a month, and I’m feral with need for her. I growl and nip at her neck as my hands work open the buttons on her pants and start dragging them, along with her panties, down her hips, and off her body.

Before I settle on top of her, I admire her, brushing my fingers past the soft triangle of curls over her sex and down between her thighs to tease her delicate folds and circle the little bud of nerves with the flat of my thumb. She’s as soft and sensitive as always, and I grin wolfishly as she shivers and sighs at my touch. Rey’s desire is always so vibrant, and every sound she rewards me with is a gift.

I’ve needed her. I’ve needed her so desperately, and I’ve spent the last month jerking off miserably, thinking of her slim body, slight curves, and pretty pink lips trailing heated kisses across my chest.

I lean over her, tracing her lips with the tip of my tongue until she opens for me, and I can playfully lick into her mouth. Rey reaches between our bodies and she frees my cock from my pants, and I groan happily into her mouth as she strokes me smoothly with her clever hand.

I’ve been thinking about this from the moment I was grounded, wondering just how soon I’d be able to get back to her. When we’re together, there’s no time or sense of place, and I just want to exist in this realm with her, always.

Unable to wait, I shift into position, rocking my cock against her wet core to before pushing inside her tight heat impatiently. It’s heaven the way she squeezes around my cock, her inner muscles clenching instinctively. Rey gasps, clutching my shoulders.

“Oh god… that’s so much better than my hand,” I mutter, biting her shoulder as I begin to thrust slowly, giving her a moment to adjust to me while enjoying the snug fit of my cock within her warmth.

“Oh, gee, thanks,” Rey says as she laughs a little, closing her eyes and arching underneath me. It’s not long before she pants, “More, Ben…”

I gather her hands, and I pin them on either side of her head, languorously plundering her mouth with another kiss. But when she makes a needy sound, I quicken my pace, driving into her harder, making her slim body jerk beneath mine. Her eyes flutter open, and she looks up into my face, all wide hazel eyes and parted, flushed lips, and I groan as if I’m in pain. It hurts how beautiful she is, how amazing she feels under me.

“Like that, baby?” I ask her, my voice rough in her ear.

Rey whimpers an incoherent reply and wraps her legs around my waist. After a moment, I can feel her buck beneath me as she begins to crest over her climax, fingers pressing desperately into my back as she cries out happily.

I bury my face in her neck, and I pump vigorously until I feel the tension build and build. Then like an overloaded dam, it bursts, and I come inside her in hot spurts that make her moan as her core flutters around me.

After, I collapse into her heavily, and I gasp against her neck and plant a lazy kiss there. Unable to pull myself away just yet, I roll my hips, enjoying the slick place where our bodies are still joined. I can’t help but caress her cheek as I give a couple leisurely thrusts before sliding out of her slowly and flopping onto my back next to her on the floor.

We’re both breathing hard, and Rey looks over at me, face still flushed from our exertions. She lifts an eyebrow at me, and we both burst out laughing, relieved and happy. A month of pent-up sexual frustration has at least had a little relief. And more than that, I adore her.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” I finally tell her, pulling her close.

“Why?” She kisses my cheek and rests her head on my shoulder.

I close my eyes and laugh and rub my hand over my face. “Um. When I thought how it would be, after having to wait a month, I didn’t really think we’d have sex on the living room floor. I thought it might be more romantic…”

“More romantic than what? Than when you proposed to me?” She gives me a devilish grin, and I groan, closing my eyes. I’ll never live down asking her to marry me like that. Her girlish giggle makes me smile, and I brush a kiss on the top of her head. “I think I’m going to have carpet burn on my butt.”

“Sorry.” I laugh, and she smacks my arm. “Okay, I’m not sorry. I can rub your butt for you, if that’ll make you feel better.”

“A noble sacrifice, I’m sure,” she retorts affectionately before kissing my cheek and standing up, gathering her clothes.

She disappears to the bathroom to clean up, and I pull my clothes back together. When she returns, I pull her onto the couch with me and press kisses all over her face and while holding her close. She feels so slight in my arms, giving me an inkling that she hasn’t been eating as much as she should, and I frown into the curve of her neck. I don’t want to argue with her today. I think of what Dr. Santekka would guide me to do, and I let it go. For now.

“I’ve missed being alone with you. Everyone at school is always watching us.”

“It’s getting better, though. Another month or two, and they’ll forget we exist.” Rey strokes her fingers through my hair, scratching my scalp until I sigh contentedly. “You ready to do some calculus homework?”

I grunt and shake my head. “Not yet. You’re too pragmatic, Mrs. Solo. Let me be a bad influence just a little bit longer before we do homework.”

Rey touches her forehead to mine, smiling sweetly. “I haven’t heard you call me that in so long.”

“Pragmatic? Or Mrs. Solo?” It difficult to decide on kissing her again, tasting her soft lips slowly, stroking my fingers over the curve of her cheek.

“Either, I suppose, but it’s Mrs. Solo that I’ve missed the most. I’d wear my ring when I missed you.”

The look she gives me is so full of affection and trust, it’s so Rey in its warmth and tenderness, that I sink back onto the couch, pulling her alongside me so I can spoon around her, holding tightly.

“22 months.”

“What?”

“We can get married in 22 months.” I smile into the back of her neck, kissing gently. It doesn’t seem so long. 22 months is less than two years. Not by much, but months are easier to digest than years, I think. It’s a technique I’ve been working on. Breaking things into more manageable pieces.

“That’s so long,” she sighs, lacing her fingers through mine and pulling them close against her steady heartbeat.

“But only 9 or 10 without me. It’ll go quickly. I promise.” I nuzzle along the curve of her neck. “And then you’ll be my lovely bride.”

I can sense her smile, even if I can’t see it. “And you’ll be my handsome husband.”

Stars, I love this fantasy. Except it’s not a fantasy. It’s real. Rey is real. And this choice we’re making, it isn’t just two kids playing house. When Rey snuggles against me, warm and cozy, I swear, not for the first time, to take care of her the way she deserves.

“Ben?”

“Hm? Yeah?”

“How are things with your doctor? Is it… is he helping you?”

“Yeah. I think so.” I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of her. “Why?”

“You know why. Because I want to know what’s in your head, Ben. We’ve barely had a chance to really talk in a month, and you’re doing this whole thing I don’t know anything about. There are so many things you haven’t told me.” She glances over her shoulder at me, and I see wistful hazel eyes. “You don’t have to tell me every little thing. I’m not asking for that…”

I know what she’s asking for. The thing I’ve been promising her. I grunt slightly in acknowledgement and I nip at her earlobe, thinking a distraction is in order. I’m not ready for this talk.

Of course, Rey is not dissuaded from her path. Sometimes I forget how stubborn she is.

“Ben, I can’t keep not knowing. You said you’d tell me someday what happened before... And besides, you know all my secrets. It’s only fair I know some of yours.” Her tone is picking up some heat, some urgency, and I can feel her wriggling as if she wants to turn and face me.

Chandrila. Fuck that place.

Not this. Not now. She’s too warm and soft, and I feel a selfish urge to keep this afternoon lazy and pleasant. I begin kissing Rey’s neck more purposefully, slipping my hands under her shirt to cup her breasts.

“Tell you later,” I murmur, nipping at her neck until she sighs. I can feel her give up on her determined line of questioning as she melts into me.

Much better.

+++

“Ready?” I ask, offering my hands to Rey.

She grins and steps a foot into my hands, and I give her a boost upward so she can get onto the roof of her trailer. I can’t deny the excellence of the view as her long legs and shapely rump wriggle and then disappear from my line of sight.

A thunderstorm had blown through Jakku two nights ago, causing power outages across town and her TV antenna to bend out of position. She’s been waiting for me to be free of work, therapy, or volunteering at the food bank so I can be there while she climbs around like a maniac.

“Be careful!” I shout, straining up on my toes to see how she’s doing.

“I’m fine, Ben!” she calls, moving as nimbly as a cat along the roof top until she gets to the antenna. “I only waited because you had such a conniption the last time I did this.”

I roll my eyes and stand back, leaning against her porch railing with my arms crossed over my chest. I still don’t like it, but at least I’m here if she needs me. It doesn’t take her long fortunately, and after about ten minutes, Rey’s back and carefully handing me her tool kit, before easing her legs over the edge of the roof and letting me help her hop back down.

“How’s the antenna?”

She shrugs. “Another severe storm, and I’m going to have to replace it altogether or live like an Amish person.”

“You’d look cute with a butter churn wearing a little cap,” I tell her. “Making all those quilts. Driving a horse and buggy around town. Maybe we could start going to barn raisings for fun.”

“There’s that famous Solo humor at work,” she says with a laugh and rolling her eyes in faux-exasperation. “Anyway, let’s go. Your parents are waiting for us.”

My dad and Charlie are manning the grill tonight, and Mom’s making a salad and her signature mac and cheese. They’d insisted I bring Rey around for some dinner, having not seen her face since before the fateful party at Mitaka’s.

As we depart, pulling out of the parking spot next to her little Ford Escort, I give her a sidelong glance. “Fair warning—my mom is determined that I have a perfect senior year. She thinks we need to go to all the school dances.”

“Is that what’s supposed to happen during a perfect senior year?” Rey sounds vaguely horrified. “Has she met you? Wait a minute. Has she met me?”

“I don’t think she’s thinking about that. I think she just wants photos of me. And you. Enjoying our carefree and frivolous youth.”

Rey snorts and then groans, putting her face in her hands. “Then you should be dating a carefree and frivolous girl instead of me. I’ve never been to a school dance I’m not sure I need to start now.”

I don’t know if that’s entirely true. I’m all too aware of the hard time Rey had last year, and it’s left her feeling combative and shy where our schoolmates are concerned, but I know she loves to dance. I’m sure Rose and Finn are going to go, knowing them, and Poe with whoever his latest crush will be. “Are you sure? I mean… you know I don’t like to dance, but if you wanted to, I would.”

“I really _don’t_ want to go, and it’s not your fault. I don’t like being around all those people. If it were just us and our friends, then it would be different. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but high school hasn’t exactly been amazing for me.”

I laugh slightly. She’s not the only one with a spotty high school record. “Mom’s not going to understand that. She thinks these are the most magical years of our lives. She wants those pictures.”

Rey wrinkles her nose, grimacing.

“Could we… could we just walk in, take the pictures, and then leave immediately?”

“Yes.” I answer so quickly, Rey is caught off guard and bursts into delighted laughter.

+++

As anticipated, Dad’s firing up the grill back at home, and Charlie’s standing next to him, waxing philosophical on the virtues of wood chips versus charcoal for grilling.

In the two weeks since I’ve been liberated from being grounded, life has settled down into a calm routine of school, working at the commissary, volunteering at the food bank, and therapy sessions with Dr. Santekka. I’m already down to one session a week, and as reluctant as I was to start the medication, I think it’s helping. I still bicker with my dad, and I’m still a grumpy sasquatch according to my friends, but I haven’t had a nightmare in weeks, and when I feel myself starting to tense or spiral into negative thoughts, I can usually pull myself out of it. And when I can’t, I can call Dr. Santekka.

And Rey. In the middle of all of this, she’s my purpose. I squirrel away as much money as I can in my savings account, and I work hard at school, and I apply to colleges that won’t take me too far from her side.

Working for Charlie, she’s not beleaguered or exhausted the way she was with her other jobs. Her hands aren’t cut up by metal, she’s not scratched to hell from landscaping work, and she’s not wan from dehydration and heat exposure. With the steady money, and the groceries I slip into her backpack after we’re done studying, she’s less tense, and there’s a relaxed grace in the way she moves. We still do boxing workouts together on the weekends, and she’s turned into a fierce little tigress with precise movements and laser focus.

The best days I have start with early mornings when I slip out of my parents’ house and drive over to Rey’s. We snuggle together on her couch, watching the morning news while we eat bowls of cereal together, and I drink the terrible instant coffee she makes me. I’m going to have to get a coffee pot to set up over there. When we’re done with breakfast, we brush our teeth at the bathroom sink together, and then I drive us to school.

As soon as we arrive home for dinner, Mom bustles happily into the foyer to lay claim to Rey.

“Girl talk,” she informs me haughtily, slipping an arm around Rey’s waist and leading my startled girlfriend to her office. Rey glances back over her shoulder at me, her eyes silently pleading for rescue. I know better than that, however, and I just wave and smile.

Dad just shrugs, and he and Charlie invite me to stand out on the patio with them while they load thick steaks onto the grill. It’s the last day of September, and the air is starting to cool. It won’t be grilling weather for much longer, though my dad swears up and down he might just make a grilled turkey for Thanksgiving this year. I have my doubts that Mom would be pleased.

“What’s Mom up to?” I ask, suspicious, and judging from the lack of a guilty flicker of my dad’s eyes, he’s not lying when he says he doesn’t know.

“You got me, kid. Probably something to do with that Homecoming dance of yours if I had to guess.”

Charlie brightens, and his bear-like face grins down at me. “Taking your girl to the school dance, huh?”

“Mom’s making me,” I grumble. Dad just about drops his grilling tongs at that, and he frowns at me so intently, I hold up my hands. Charlie’s glaring, too, as if he’s going to grab me by the scruff of my neck for daring to slight Rey.

“Rey doesn’t want to go, either! I didn’t mean it like that. Jeeze. You think I wouldn’t take her anywhere she wants to go?”

Charlie relaxes infinitesimally, and he gives me side-eye as he sips his beer, as if he’s assessing whether I’m good enough for his favorite girly. Get in line, Charlie. You’re not the first to wonder if I’ll ever deserve her, not when I’m so full of doubt.

Dad snorts and rolls his eyes. “Then your mother is definitely grilling Rey about that dance. She’s probably got her in a headlock right now, making her promise that you’ll take a nice picture and dance every dance.”

Sounds about right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Ben has generalized anxiety disorder. His uncertainty about taking medication for it is borne out of the late 90s media hysteria around the rise of antidepressants. He will be undergoing CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), as well.
> 
> The author supports the use of any and all treatments that give people what they need to live healthily and happily. Mental health is critically important, and mental health services are severely under-resourced in the United States. 
> 
> Yes, Dr. Lawrence Santekka = Lor San Tekka. Sometimes Star Wars names just don’t work in a modern AU. This is one of those where I can’t suspend belief, so I modified the way I did with Chewie/Charlie.
> 
> Oh my god. Leia’s empty nest syndrome is going to be off the charts. NOT HER BABY BENNY BOY, GROWING UP AND MOVING OUT. IT CANNOT BE.
> 
> I have an exciting surprise for you all in the next chapter, and I hope you like it! Thanks for putting up with my writing, weird pacing issues, and occasional manic revisions of earlier chapters.
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	40. utility work ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. October 1998. PSAT. Chandrila. Homecoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose, Finn, and I stagger out of the school cafeteria, through the atrium, and we collapse onto the front lawn of the school in a chaos of coats and backpacks.

“Stick a fork in me,” Finn groans. “I’m done.”

“I’m dead inside,” Rose complains. “How am I supposed to go on with my life knowing there’s still the SAT to take this spring?”

It’s mid-October, and even though it’s months and months until spring, Rose is right. It does seem too soon.

I rub my hands across my aching eyes. At Ben’s urging, I’d parted with the $8 to take the PSAT, and now here I am, intellectually and spiritually and emotionally drained after the hours-long exam. I’m exhausted, but I feel like I did okay. I flew through the math, and the verbal section didn’t seem to have any tricky landmines.

I’ve been studying while working the desk at Charlie’s, and Ben has been quizzing me on vocabulary for the last couple of weeks. He tried to emulate my study system of reward kisses, but he’s far less disciplined than I am—or does this make me the undisciplined one?--and we ended up naked more often than not.

“Why did we do that again?” I ask. “Where am I? Who are you? What’s my name?”

“You know I’m not capable of answering questions!” Finn groans, swatting his hand at me. “There is no more information left in my brain.”

Rose heaves another dramatically anguished sigh, throwing the back of her wrist to her forehead for maximum effect. “It’s a good thing we have a week to recover before the Homecoming dance. Rey, are you really going? I remember you saying something last year about preferring to be caught in a bear trap with only an axe to get yourself loose.”

That sounds dramatic. But those words also sound rather familiar. This time last year, Rose and Finn had failed to convince me to go to any event with them, big or small, where I might encounter other Jakku High students. This year is already better than last. People mostly ignore me now, and it’s such a relief.

“Ben’s mother cornered me and made me promise to go. Can you believe she gave me the ‘best years of your life’ speech?” If Leia had any idea, I don’t think she would have done that. Though, admittedly, this year hasn’t been as bad as all that. “Do you have your dress yet? Leia took me last weekend to get one.”

_“Come out and let me see it on you, Rey,” Leia says, knocking on the dressing room door._

_“I don’t know…”_

_I’d tried to get Leia to agree that I should just wear my cream-colored dress from this summer. She’d refused, saying it was too casual and that because it was after Labor Day, I shouldn’t be wearing white. When I’d snorted and said that rule didn’t matter anymore, she’d declared that I was overruled by executive order. There’s never any winning with her._

_And now here I am in a dark green slip dress that skims my body, accentuating my slight curves, and I don’t recognize myself when I look in the mirror. It’s the most form-fitting dress I’ve ever put on, and I’ve never felt more awkward. Leia had handed it to me while cheerfully saying she thought the cut and color would suit me. I’m not exactly sure what she was thinking, because this dress just isn’t me._

_During our “girl talk” last week, she’d informed me, without preamble, that she was taking me shopping for Homecoming. No excuses accepted. And given the determination in her eyes, I knew she already had her own vision of what I should wear in her head. I’d already lost the war, and I’d never even set foot on the battlefield._

_We’re even picking out something for Ben to wear, the news of which left him exasperated and stomping around, muttering about his mother’s high-handed ways, albeit without any real anger. I promised him that we’d find something he wouldn’t hate, and he’d given me such a baleful gaze that I’d wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him until he’d softened and smiled against my cheek. “I’m trusting you,” he’d whispered._

_“Rey, sweetheart, if you don’t come out of that dressing room this min—”_

_I open the door and slink out in front of Leia, shoulders hunched, as if that would mask how the neckline of the dress swooped low over my chest, coming dangerously close to showing far too much my breasts. I don’t have much, but this dress threatens to reveal all._

_Leia immediately covers her mouth in surprise. She looks over me slowly, shaking her head. “Oh…”_

_I groan, wrapping my arms around myself. “Now you see why I didn’t want to show you.”_

_“No, Rey. You look beautiful.” I give her a dubious look, then look down at myself. All I see are knobby knees and the awkward angles of my body, and Leia laughs warmly. “Really. The dress is just too mature for a high school dance. It does suit your figure, but I think we’re going to have to try something else, or there’s going to be a riot.”_

_Leia bites her lip thoughtfully and tilts her head as if taking mental measurements and I can see the analysis ticking away in her eyes._

_While I go back in the dressing room to take off the dress and put my own clothes back on, I hear Leia clap her hands together. “Ooh, I have an idea.”_

_Of course she does._

Rose sighs. “I haven’t got a dress yet, and none of Paige’s old dresses really work for me. I’m going with my mom as soon as I get home. Do you want to tag along?”

I shake my head. “Sorry. Ben’s picking me up to volunteer at the food bank today. Do either of you want to hang out tomorrow?”

Finn pokes his head up. “Let’s get everyone together. Maybe we can do a cookout at the park? Do you think you can twist your squatch’s arm into joining us? He’s so elusive lately. Too busy to go to the gym with Poe and me half the time.”

I shrug slightly. I know, but they don’t, that Ben’s spending time with a psychiatrist once a week, and he’s been working on his college applications. He sent out the last batch this week. He’s been trying to not make a big deal about it in front of me, but I know he’s as excited about leaving as he is terrified over leaving me.

The school brochures had started flooding his mailbox after his SAT results came in, and his bedroom is covered in piles of glossy pictures of leafy campuses. It’s amazing to me how every single one of them looks like a snapshot from a TV show. I can picture Ben in a place like that so easily—far away from the tribulations of high school, surrounded by people who are maybe a little more serious-minded like he is. Whenever he catches me flipping through the brochures, he tugs them from my hands and kisses me tenderly as if he’s quietly guiding me away from thoughts that might hurt me.

“If there’s grilled meat, he’ll be there,” I reply. “Round up Poe, Gwen, and Kaydel, too.”

When Ben arrives, he grins happily as he pulls me to my feet, sparing a smile and a nod for Rose and Finn. When they tell him of the cookout plans, he agrees with a good-natured shrug and smile.

“Sorry I’ve been MIA. My mom’s been marching me through all my college applications.”

“Already?” Finn seems perplexed. “Most applications aren’t due until March. You going for early acceptance?”

“No, I just want it all done so I don’t have to stress anymore. I’m ready to surrender to fate.”

Surrender to fate? Not my Ben Solo, I think with a private smile.

Nine weeks ago, he would have never publicly acknowledged any kind of stress. In the last few weeks of working with his doctor, his rough edges have smoothed a little, and it no longer feels like there’s a nervous energy zipping underneath his skin half the time. No more flares of temper at school. Less time snarking with Han. He’s still grumbly and stubborn and sarcastic, but he’s less severe. I wonder if he was using the irritability as a guard to keep people out, because he’s certainly never treated me that way. He’s only ever sought to keep me close.

“Come on, Sasquatch,” I tell him, taking his hand. “I’m hungry and you promised me food before we go to the food bank.”

+++

We kick through leaves on the wooded trail, hand in hand. It had been warmer earlier, and now the air is starting to cool. Ben had wrapped his scarf around my neck, dimpling in satisfaction as he did so.

“Why no food bank today?” I ask him. I’d started going with him on Saturdays to spend time with him and maybe do a little good in the world.

I love watching Ben at work there, whether he’s sorting food for delivery or helping the elderly fill their baskets with what they need. He moves with a looseness I never see at school, smiling easily and flirting with the old ladies. Helping them, he’s more like _my_ Ben, the sweet boy who holds my hand while we watch TV and who makes coffee for his parents every morning, then comes to my house and pours me a bowl of cereal.

After a lunch of sandwiches and apples he’d brought from home, eaten in the school parking lot, he’d driven west instead of east and taking us out of town. I’d had to ask him, teasingly, if he were kidnapping me. Ben had only grinned and shrugged. He’d just tapped the radio to a new station, and when we’d arrived at Niima River State Park, he’d given me a sly smile.

“I thought we could use a change of pace,” he tells me, lifting my hand to his lips in the old-fashioned, courtly way he likes to mimic with me. “Get some fresh air while the weather’s still good. November will be too cold for us to do this.”

The trail dips and curves through trees, and there’s a fallen log across the path. It’s too much for me to step over, but Ben clears it, and he offers a hand to help me up and over.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, I feel Ben’s hand tighten on mine, and he looks down at me, a determined look on his face, as if he’s been trying to make up his mind to say something significant.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said to me last month, after I was ungrounded. About how you can’t keep not knowing what’s in my head.”

I stop walking and tug at his hand for him to stop, slightly astonished, and honestly, feeling a rare flare of annoyance. The breeze ruffles his hair, and I get a glimpse of his ears, which usually makes me smile. He’s always fighting to keep them hidden.

“And then you told me you’ll tell me later.”

And then he’d distracted me with a slow, leisurely, toe-curling round of lovemaking on my living room couch. I’d known then what he was up to. And considering it had been the easiest way to distract him from my secrets, I’d let it slide. Fair is fair. But he’d never followed through on his promise. “It’s been a _month_ , Ben.”

Months and months, really.

Ben gives me a guilty look, his jaw tightening before he looks away from my face. And again, he doesn’t say a word. Frustration guides my hands to the front of his jacket, and I curl my fists into it, urging him to look back at me. He looks almost surprised to see me so intent when I’ve always been gentle with him about… well… everything.

“Ben.” My voice carries a note of warning, and he covers my hands with his own.

“I know. _I know_. So, uh… that’s why we’re here. I want to tell you about it. About Chandrila. Dr. Santekka… my sessions are going well with him. We do this thing called cognitive behavioral therapy. He’s helping me identify patterns of negative thinking, and I’m learning to challenge those thoughts so I can change my behavior.”

Ben tugs my hands and we start walking again, our shoes crunching over the fallen leaves. It’s so still and quiet out here. Whenever we stop talking, all I can hear is the wind rustling through the trees.

“You do seem calmer. At least, you wait five minutes before arguing with your dad,” I say, teasing lightly.

Ben snorts slightly, and he swings my hand playfully. “Well, at the last session, um, we talked about you.”

“W-what? Why?”

I don’t know if it’s a good sign or a bad sign that I’m a subject of discussion.

“I told him how afraid I am of losing you if you knew everything about me. He asked me to break down that fear with him.” Ben pauses again, and I see him draw himself up to his full height, squaring his shoulders, and breathing deeply as if to steady himself.

“Identify, challenge, and replace. That’s what I try to do now. He always asks me, ‘What’s the worst that would happen?’ followed by ‘What’s the best that could happen?’”

I wrap my arms around Ben’s waist, and I look up at him, my chin in his chest. He holds me against him and kisses my forehead.

“Well? What’s the worst, Ben?”

“The worst? I tell you what I did in Chandrila, and you decide I’m an irredeemable monster, and you stop loving me.”

I shake my head. Never. Never. Ben smiles ruefully, cradling my head in his huge hands, looking at me like I’m his saving grace. “The best outcome is you understand, and you continue to love me, and we go on like we have.”

“So what do you think will happen if you tell me?” I ask him.

“I guess there’s a chance you might not entirely understand, and you might be horrified. I hope you have it in your heart to love me anyway.”

“How likely do you think that worst case scenario is?” I ask him softly. I’m shocked by how much it hurts that he could even entertain the thought that I’d turn away from him. It’s a raw feeling, practically physical as it manifests in a tightness in my chest. But I’m starting to understand that the fear wasn’t _him_. The fear is this shadow creature inside him, tugging his thoughts from their natural path. Ben’s just telling me his truth. “Your parents still love you after all that. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I thought you might see that I don’t deserve you.”

I exhale as if my body can no longer hold another molecule of oxygen.

“Ben Solo. There’s not a chance in hell I’ll ever stop loving you.”

+++

A week later, Homecoming is upon us in a frenzy of spirit week activity—dress-up days, lunchtime contests, and as many banners as the student volunteers could paint for the Leadership Club. Ben and I try to skip the pep rally held on Friday afternoon by hiding in the library, but the librarian flaps and clucks after us like an aggressive, frazzled hen until we’re out the door and on our way to the gymnasium. As Ben holds my hand as we squeeze onto the overcrowded bleachers, I look up at him with a smile, feeling effervescent in my love for him.

After telling me what he needed to tell me that day at the park as the autumn leaves tumbled a riot of color around us, Ben had driven me home in near silence. He’d hesitated when I’d asked him to come inside, as if he still couldn’t trust that nothing had changed between us. As if it were still too good to be true. As if I were too good to be true, a thought that makes me laugh in the fullness of knowledge of my woeful imperfections.

 _“You don’t think I understand?”_ My voice was soft, and I teetered precariously on hurt when all I wanted was to give him my heart.

_“It’s not that. Just…”_

I kissed him until he shut up, and he eventually followed me into my trailer, where we peeled out of our clothes and touched each other until there wasn’t not a shred of doubt or worry left in Ben’s mind.

There’s none in mine. No matter how many times I replay his story, my conclusion is always the same. Ben is Ben, no matter how many I turn his story over in my mind.

_“I can give you the short version. I’ll tell you how it ends, and you can tell me if you want the rest.”_

_I sigh. “Ben, just—”_

_“I’m a convicted criminal. I wasn’t just bad in Chandrila. I was charged and convicted of assault. I have a record.”_

Bazine and the other cheerleaders bounce enthusiastically in an intricately choreographed routine, doing backflips and cartwheels before piling into a big pyramid. They’re loud and they wave their pompoms while all the students cheer. The football team lumbers into the gym, and their coach makes a speech no one listens to. The marching band honks aggressively through one unidentifiable song after another.

_He watches my face intently, and I give him a nod of encouragement. Ben frowns and scuffs his feet through the leaves before tugging me to sit next to him on one of the large, flat rocks along the riverbank._

_“I wasn’t in a good place in Chandrila. I’ve always been kind of… I guess, emotional. Like, I was always worried about every little thing as a kid, and I had these rough nightmares, all the time. I never really slept well. By the time we got to Chandrila, I was tired of all the moves and sick of my parents always being gone. I felt unseen, unloved, and after I, uh, hit my growth spurt, just too goddamn big and awkward. Nothing fit. I didn’t fit. Not at home. Not at school.”_

I roll my eyes when the school principal brings out a minister to bless and pray over the football team, and I can hear Ben snort derisively next to me. His religious views are about as bleak as mine. And if there is a God, I’m sure he or she has better things to do than make sure Snap Wexley is blessed enough to bring home a W for the Jakku Knights varsity football team. The game is probably cursed if Snap’s a holy vessel of God’s will, I think wryly.

_I lace my fingers through Ben’s, sensing how badly he needs me to anchor him to this moment here with me as he stumbles through his story. He should know it by heart, but actually speaking the words seems to trip his tongue._

_“I lashed out. I stopped trying at school, and after the third time the MPs dragged me home for breaking windows at one of the warehouses, my parents decided to try something other than yelling at me. They asked me if I needed an outlet for my anger. Hitting something sounded really good, so I signed up for boxing classes.”_

After the pep rally, Ben drives me to Charlie’s shop so I can work my shift at the front desk and get him caught up on his invoices. Ben kisses me goodbye, but he lingers at the desk, leaning against it and flirting boldly with me while I work until Charlie comes into the office. Rolling his eyes good naturedly, Charlie tells Ben to stop harassing his employees.

“Get out of here, kid. Save that Solo charm for when she’s off duty. Ain’t you got someplace to be?”

“Hmph. Fine. See you tomorrow, Rey.” Ben pecks my cheek lightly, and with a wink, he’s on his way home.

_Ben leans back until his head is in my lap, and I stroke my fingers through his thick hair._

_“I loved it. The discipline and the intensity of boxing were exactly what I needed. I started to put on a lot of muscle, and I looked less like an angry scarecrow. I was so focused on doing well in my boxing class, that it bled over into the rest of my life. My grades got better. There was less yelling at home. Things weren’t good, but life seemed bearable. I felt more in control.”_

“You excited, about your dance, little lady?” Charlie asks gruffly. “That boyo of yours better be a gentleman and dance with you, if he knows what’s good for him. Don’t be afraid to tell me if he’s not doing right by you. I’ll talk to his father about it.”

I laugh slightly. Charlie’s determined that I should be well-treated by any and everyone.

“Ben’s promised to dance every dance.”

“Then you better get some practice.”

Charlie turns up the radio, and he offers me a hand, and I slide off my stool. He very formally bowls to me and guides my hands to the proper location—his shoulder and his hand, and he tries to lead me in an easy four-step kind of dance. A waltz? I don’t know.

After a moment, he laughs heartily. “Girly, you’re supposed to let the man lead. Try it again.”

As Charlie waltzes me slowly around the office, I suddenly realize with a joyous thrum in my heart that I’m more than a little excited for this Homecoming dance. I think Leia might be right. This _is_ a year to savor. I only have so much time left with Ben before he goes away.

_Ben falters in his storytelling, closing his eyes and seemingly content to let my fingers soothe against his scalp._

_“What happened next?” I urge him, and he makes an unhappy sound._

_“Mom deployed again. So, just Dad and me at home, and we started arguing. It was all the time. Over every goddamn thing, until one day, I, um, I hit him. I punched him in the face and knocked him down. He never told my mother about it. She doesn’t know.”_

_“What did he do?”_

_“We were both so shocked, we didn’t do anything. He got up and left me there in the living room.”_

Rose picks me up to get ready for the dance the next day, and she is vibrating with happiness. More so than usual, because usually her frequency is dialed up to 10 on the Richter scale.

“Okay, what’s going on?” I ask her. “I can tell you’ve got a secret. You look like you’re going to explode.”

She bites her lip and wiggles a little in the driver’s seat as she turns up the radio. “Oooh, I love this song,” she yells as the Barenaked Ladies’ _One Week_ blares just a little louder.

_Chickity China, the Chinese chicken_

_You have a drumstick and your brain stops tickin'_

_Watching X-Files with no lights on_

_We're dans la maison_

_I hope the Smoking Man's in this one_

“Rose!” I laugh, knowing all-too-well that she’s lobbing distractions at me to get me off her case. She’s not half as good at this as Ben, so there’s no way I’ll let go of the matter now. “Tell me!”

“Tonight’s the night. Finn and I are going to… you know.” She glances at me, blushing.

“What!? I thought you were going to wait! Oh, Rose…” I grin at her. “I’m happy for you. Did you want to ask me… anything?”

Rose shrugs, then glances at me shyly. “We’ve fooled around a little, so I’m not _clueless_ , but, um, does it really hurt the first time? Or is that just in romance novels?”

“It did…” I sigh slightly, reluctantly thinking of my first time, but I consider what I know now after Ben, and I feel a smile tug in my heart. “But I don’t think it has to. If he’s pleasing you, listening to you, it should be alright. It helps if he takes care of you first. Before he goes, um, all in, ya know?”

“Right. Right.” Rose nods, then smiles before bursting into a fit of laughter. “Then I think we should be okay. Finn’s, uh… he pays attention.”

_I can’t fathom it. He must hear the hitch in my voice, because he stops talking and looks up at me. Ben lifts a large, gentle hand to caress my cheek._

_“I’m not the good guy in this story, Rey.”_

_“Maybe not in this part of the story,” I allow, turning to kiss the palm of his hand._

_“Not in any part of the story,” he warns._

At Rose’s house, we giggle endlessly, listening to loud music and dancing together. Mrs. Tico calls us silly girls, and she makes us eat an early dinner even though we’re too excited to be hungry while Rose’s father shouts for us to turn down the music occasionally. He knows it’s a futile cause. Rose plays with my hair, pulling it half up into a bun and curling a few tendrils around my face. For once, I let her have her way and I don’t hiss like a scared cat when she pulls out her curling iron.

_“I think it was easier for Dad just to interfere as little as possible. I moved up into an advanced group in my boxing class. Still mostly footwork and working bags. After hitting my dad, I didn’t want to move on to sparring. I felt sick just thinking about it.”_

_Ben takes my hand and holds it in his over his chest. I can feel the steady, solid thump of his heart and a frisson of anxiety shiver through him._

_“But there was this coach, Snoke. He had a private class of people he cherry-picked from the advanced group. He kept telling me I had a real talent, ‘raw, untamed power.’ I tried his class, and it was so intense. No one held back. They put me in the sparring ring, and the harder I hit, the more praise I got.”_

Finn and Ben arrive to pick Rose and me up for the dance, with Han and Leia and Finn’s parents following and filled with the insatiably parental determination to take as many pictures as possible.

Leia is more excited to see me than Ben is, based on the way she runs past her son and husband to hug me and kiss my cheek.

Ben’s rolling his eyes in the background, but I can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his wide mouth. He’s marvelously handsome, broad-shouldered, and confident, dressed in the silvery gray shirt and navy tie Leia and I selected to match my outfit. After the disastrously revealing green dress, Leia and I had settled on a sleeveless navy top, and a satiny, silver skirt.

Leia eventually manages to give her son a chance to greet me, and Ben and I area laughing as Leia marches back to Han to tell him to get it together, it’s picture time. While they bicker, Ben kisses my cheek, and he presents me with a lovely, white wrist corsage.

“You look really beautiful tonight,” he whispers, sliding the elastic band over my wrist, letting his big hands caress mine slowly, intimately. His warm fingers trail loving promises over my skin, and we share a secret, tender smile.

_Ben tugs my hand to his lips and presses a slow kiss, looking up at me, trying to see if I’m ready to run from him yet, his eyes hesitant._

_“Go on,” I whisper. “I’m with you.”_

_“Snoke’s training got more intense every class. He was always shouting for me to hit harder, to show no mercy, to rely on my anger. Show the world who you are, he says. Are you some weak, sniveling boy who doesn’t get along with his mommy and daddy? Or are you a man?”_

_Ben’s voice is cold. Colder than I’ve ever heard, and I shiver slightly._

_“Snoke got in my head. I could hear him all the time, like one of the shadows in my nightmares. The violence became an addiction for me. My classmates got me to go out with them, and we’d steal booze and pick fights with people. This one time, we gave this guy a black eye, knocked him down. The other guys, Cardo and Trudgen, they were just kicking the shit out of him, and he was crying and begging us to stop. I’d had more to drink than anyone, and, uh, I thought it would be funny to piss on him. So I did.”_

The parents make Ben and me and Rose and Finn stand together for a series of pictures. Ben holds me close, and I catch him smiling down at me, his eyes softening as they catch over the ring he gave me, the little blue butterfly sitting on the ring finger of my right hand, looking as if its prepared to fly away. He captures my hand and kisses my cheek quickly.

“Can I take Rey to the dance now?” he asks his mother. “Are you done with your pictures?”

“Don’t rush your mother,” Han tells him, trying to keep a straight face as he talks. “This is a big day for her.”

Leia laughs and smacks his arm. “Han, stop. Yes, Ben. You and Rey are free to go. But you’re getting the professional pictures done at the dance, or else.”

_Ben sits up suddenly, as if he’s agitated, but he slides his arms around my waist and tugs me onto his lap, settling me between his legs. His heart’s hammering, and I nestle back against him, knowing instinctively that he needs the weight of me to soothe him._

_I can’t imagine Ben like this. Drunk and angry and pissing on some poor boy for no reason at all. For any reason at all._

_“Snoke’s sparring sessions only got rougher. It wasn’t about the discipline of boxing anymore at this point. I only cared about dominating other people. So when Snoke told me I could make money doing what I loved best, I was all in. I’d sneak out of my house late at night, and I’d go to these sleazy underground clubs and fight whoever Snoke told me to fight. I didn’t care about the money. Not really. I was happy to be King Shit because only the worthy got to compete for Snoke.”_

Ben drives the Wagoneer, and Finn and Rose sit in the back seat, holding hands. She’s so lovely in her pink dress with the fun, flower-like gather of fabric on her hip, and Finn’s wearing a pink tie to match. He keeps whispering in her ear, making her blush and laugh, and she finally smacks his leg and tells him to behave himself. I catch her eye in the rearview mirror, and she grins at me, eyes mirthful.

_“How did you keep all that from you parents?” I blurt out. “You had to have seemed so… so not there. So not you, Ben…”_

_He shrugs and kisses the side of my head. “Remember, this took place over about two years. You know the saying about how you can get boiled alive if the temperature is turned up gradually enough.”_

_Well, I do now, I think with a frown._

_“Well, I was winning a lot of money, and I got cocky. I was big and mean and I could knock a guy out in just a few punches. At home, there wasn’t a damn thing Mom or Dad could say to me that was worth hearing, and I let them know it. I was a fucking terror at school who picked fights and argued incessantly with my teachers. Eventually, I got expelled. 10 th grade was over for me, just like that. My mom lost her absolute shit, and she grounded me. That’s when it started to unravel with Snoke.”_

Ben flips on the radio, and he grins hearing Smashing Pumpkins’ _Perfect_ , doing as much of a car-dancing shoulder wiggle as I’ve ever seen from him.

“I’m in a dancing mood tonight, Sands. I hope you’re ready,” he tells me teasingly. “I’ve been practicing my dance moves.”

I seriously doubt Ben’s been practicing, but I’m thrilled this awkwardly large boy is willing to lurch around on a dance floor just to please me.

I want to dive into his dimples they’re so deep, and I catch his eye, throwing him a suggestive glance that makes Ben, with his creative mind, skilled hands, and his dirty talk, blush. So _that’s_ what he wants to do after the dance. I’m not surprised, I think, suppressing a laugh. I strike a coy pose in the passenger seat, arching an eyebrow at him, and somehow, impossibly his smile grows broader.

_Ben’s story keeps getting bleaker, and I wonder, again and again, how that angry, troubled boy became the person with me today. The one who’s so tender and gentle with me, the one who does everything he can to make sure I’m safe. How are they the same person?_

_“Snoke was pissed that I missed a practice session. When I finally made it back, he pitted me against this new fighter he’d recruited who had about 50lbs on me and an even bigger mean streak. He broke my nose on the first swing._

_My parents were furious to find out I was sparring, and they demanded I quit boxing altogether. They told me it was a privilege I’d have to earn back. They were more pissed off that I lied to them than anything. They didn’t even ask who did it or why._

_In the meantime, Snoke was losing money, because I was his cash cow. The few hundred dollars he gave me after a fight were just a pittance to the thousands he was making. He started subbing in some of the other guys in his program.”_

When we get to the school parking lot, Ben slips his hand into mine, and we run, shivering in the cool October night air, to the gymnasium door with Finn and Rose close behind. There’s already a queue of teenagers signing in with the teachers working the tables in the gym lobby, and ahead of us in line I see Poe with Kaydel and Gwen.

“Poe didn’t get a date?” I whisper to Rose with no small amount of confusion. How Poe hadn’t managed a date on his own, I have no idea. He’s handsome and charming if a bit… Poe-like.

“Oh shit. I forgot to to tell you because it was kind of last minute. Gwen and Kaydel’s parents wouldn’t let them go to the dance unless they had dates. _Boy_ dates. Poe stepped up and volunteered.”

Ben clears his throat, leaning down to join our conversation. “They needed someone who would understand that this wasn’t, you know, a _date_.”

Poe loves to champion a cause, so I guess I’m not surprised he’d help Kaydel and Gwen. He’d required no encouragement to defend me last year when things were bad.

“But there’s two of them and only one Poe...”

Rose and Finn laugh. “Their parents don’t know that Poe is officially the date of the other one, too.”

“So… if they knew, would their parents think a threesome is more appropriate than a twosome?” I wonder out loud, trying to do parental math.

Ben barks a laugh, then claps a hand over his mouth as people turn around to stare at our group curiously.

_“But that wasn’t the end of it. You were kicked out of school, grounded, and… wait, what did you do about school?”_

_Ben groans, resting his forehead on my shoulder briefly._

_“Home school. Dad on a lengthy TDY, so Mom was there, and she signed me up. I had a shit ton of classes to make up, and she hired me this awful tutor, who was a babysitter more than anything, to make sure I sat there and did all my work.”_

_I wrinkle my nose. “That sounds awful.”_

_Ben laughs just a little, a ragged noise._

_“It was. Anyway, I made a lot of progress. School work isn’t hard, it’s just a matter of doing it, so after a while, Mom said I could go back to the gym if I stayed out of the sparring ring. We were holding on to this politely hostile truce, but it was the best things had been between us for a long time. I decided then that I didn’t want to do any more of those club fights for Snoke. I was still angry, and I still wanted to break shit, but it occurred to me that fighting for Snoke was making it all worse. I was becoming a monster.”_

_Ben gives me a little squeeze, as if to reassure himself that I’m still there despite everything he’s said._

_“So the next time I saw Snoke, and he told me I was booked to fight again, I said no.”_

Jakku High’s humble gymnasium has been utterly transformed since yesterday’s pep rally with the help of spinning, colorful lights and a DJ and even a smoke machine. It doesn’t look anything like the place where Rose and I spent all that time dancing the Macarena in P.E. Even in the dim lighting, I can see that it looks like the entire student body has turned out for the dance.

When we walk in, despite my latent anxiety, there’s no awkward gasp at my arrival or Ben’s arrival, and there’s certainly no dramatic 80s teen movie moment filled with slow claps of grudging approval. We’re just there, and the other students are there, and nobody cares, and life has moved on. I guess that’s my Homecoming miracle, Charlie Brown.

_“Good,” I exhale. The audacity of that man to manipulate a teenager into fighting, into being exploited… it makes me physically ill to think of it, how dangerous it was for Ben to be in that situation._

_“Well, he didn’t see it that way. He sent one of his other fighters after me, this guy named Cal. He was furious that I’d refused the fight, because Snoke had scheduled us against each other. That meant no payday for him. No payday for anyone. Anyway, there was some name calling, and Cal took a swing at me. And because it was the only way I knew how to solve anything back then, I leaned into my anger, and I hit back. I don’t even know how long the fight was. I started swinging, and I didn’t stop until I heard sirens._

_I ended up with a broken nose again, and he broke my ribs. But Cal? I thrashed him until he couldn’t get off the ground and his face looked like raw meat. Broken jaw. Broken ribs._

_Those things heal at least. But, um, I caused permanent damage this time. At some point when I was hitting him, one of his orbitals shattered, and his eye was damaged. Well, beyond damaged. I’d ruptured something, and the doctors had to take his eye.”_

“You ready to dance the night away, Mrs. Solo?” he whispers in my ear, gathering me into his arms from behind.

When I look over my shoulder and up at him, his honeyed eyes meet mine. His gaze is so warm, so admiring, I realize with some astonishment that he’s actually a little dazzled by me. I’ve never been this dressed up for him before, or he wouldn’t be so awe-struck, I rationalize quickly. He’s seen every inch of me by now, and he’s never looked at me like this, like I’m the beacon by which he’s guiding himself in the darkness.

_“Oh my god…” My words are barely above a whisper, and I start to turn to look at Ben, but he stills me. I don’t know if it’s because he’s afraid to see the look on my face, or if he doesn’t want me to see the pain I can feel emanating from him right now. “Ben, you didn’t do it on purpose.”_

_“I did do it on purpose. Maybe I didn’t want to blind him, but yeah, I absolutely wanted to fuck him up. I did what I wanted to do, Rey.”_

_His hands shake, and I cover them with my own. My thoughts are spinning. That much violence out of these hands? These elegant, perfect hands that are unfailingly gentle when touching me?_

_“My parents were out of their minds when they found out about what I’d done and Snoke and the whole thing, but not half as angry and grief-stricken as I was. Because of me, Cal’s maimed for life. He was a jerk, but Snoke put him up to it, and I took the bait like an idiot._

_I don’t know how my parents pulled it off with the lawyer, but my charges got reduced to petty assault, and I didn’t end up in a juvenile detention center, which is where I deserved to go._

_The crazy thing is, that’s when I finally figured out that my parents cared about me. Me as a person. Not just me as an obligation. They told me the devil would ice skate in hell before they let anyone, even the law, take me from them.”_

Kaydel and Gwen are delighted when we join them, and they and Rose and I admire each other’s dresses. Gwen’s elegant in a high-neck black sheath, but Kaydel’s aggressively bold in the same kind of slip dress that Leia and I had vetoed.

“My parents were giving me such a hard time about having a date, I had no choice but to get this dress,” she says with a laugh. I’m not sure I understand, but Gwen just grins at her, and Rose laughs, too.

“There’s nothing better than a revenge dress,” Rose says, nodding her approval.

The boys have already clumped together, laughing and talking. Finn’s teasing Poe, and I see Poe’s eyes light up warmly as they move over Finn’s face. When Finn surreptitiously passes him a flask, I see Poe give the other boy’s arm a pleased squeeze.

“Who takes two girls to Homecoming? Only you, dude!” Finn crows.

Poe’s all white-toothed laughter, his eyes crinkling. “Well, I never could decide on who to ask, so when the opportunity arose to take two hot blondes, I wasn’t going to fight destiny.”

“Oh, barf, Poe!” Gwen laughs, shoving his arm. “Don’t act like you’re Casanova. Kaydel and I are doing you a huge favor tonight more than anything. Tonight, the legend, no matter how undeserving of that status, of Poe the Ho Dameron is born.”

Ben groans. “He’s already insufferable. If suddenly everyone thinks he’s an actual, honest-to-God ladies’ man, there will be no dealing with him.”

Poe rubs his hands together gleefully, laughing as he says, “Girls can’t stay away from a bad boy.”

He gives me a sidelong glance and winks. “Or moody sasquatches.”

“Can we just dance?” I ask, and Rose, looks at the ceiling in relief.

“Please, God, yes, let’s dance. Poe, drink some water and calm the fuck down.”

_“What happened to Snoke? What he was doing couldn’t have been legal…”_

_Finally, Ben lets me turn around to face him, and I slide my arms around his neck to pull him close. His heart is wild and frenetic, and I hold tight to him, trying to give him all my assurances, all my warmth and steadiness._

_“I don’t know what happened to Snoke. I know there was an investigation. I… I chose to ignore it. I didn’t want to hear his name again, so I stayed away from the newspapers. My parents said we had to put that chapter behind us._

_So, I paid my debt to society. I did probation and community service, and I attended court-ordered anger management classes. My parents went with me to family counseling, and I home-schooled until we moved to Jakku. And that’s when I met you.”_

_He punctuates this last bit with a tentative kiss, smoothing his thumbs over my cheeks. I give him a little smile, as much of one as I can when my head and heart are a roar of sadness and anger and confusion and everything he must have felt. What Ben feels, I feel._

We mingle with our friends. Poe runs into Hux at the snack table, and he insists on calling him “Hugs” every time they cross paths for the rest of the dance. To his credit, Hux only nearly loses his shit once.

Once Rose manages to pull Finn away from Poe’s side, she and Finn are inseparable, and even the way they’re holding hands seems a little personal at this point. He thinks he’s being sneaky, watching for school chaperones to be as far away as possible before he ducks his head to kiss her gently. They gaze at each other as if there’s no one else on the planet.

“Sip?” Ben quietly asks me between dances when I’m taking a break to rest my feet, offering me the flask of whiskey everyone’s been sneaking from all night, and with a glance to make sure none of the teacher’s are watching, I take a quick swig, then cough at the burning sensation. I don’t think I’m ever going to be much of a whiskey drinker.

Ben laughs and pats my back before hiding the flask in a jacket pocket.

“You okay?”

I nod, feeling a flush cross my face and a spreading warmth in my chest from the whiskey.

“Do you want dance a couple more and get out of here? Rose and Finn are going to stay with Poe, Gwen, and Kay.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, and he pulls me to my feet. Ben’s arm is so solid under my hand as he leads me back out onto the dancefloor as another slow song starts up.

I see Rose settle her head against Finn’s shoulder as they dance, their feet barely touching the floor. I wonder if that’s how Ben and I look to the world, but I haven’t got too much time to think before Ben pulls me into his arms for a slow dance.

Ben says slow dances are his favorite. Less lanky flailing, he claims. I happen to like his lanky flailing. When he’s happy, when he’s exuberant, he forgets to be self-conscious, and there’s a primal beauty in the way he moves.

I think he likes slow dances because he likes it when I rest my head against his chest as we sway to sappy music. His heartbeat always quickens, and I feel his big hands span the small of my back, holding me close against him. When he wraps his arms around my waist, I feel safe in a world of uncertainty.

_I could stay awake just to hear you breathing_

_Watch you smile while you are sleeping_

_While you're far away and dreaming_

_I could spend my life in this sweet surrender_

_I could stay lost in this moment forever_

_Ooh, every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure_

_Don't want to close my eyes_

_I don't want to fall asleep_

_'Cause I'd miss you, babe_

_And I don't want to miss a thing_

_'Cause even when I dream of you_

_The sweetest dream will never do_

_I'd still miss you, babe_

_And I don't want to miss a thing_

_Lying close to you feeling your heart beating_

_And I'm wondering what you're dreaming_

_Wondering if it's me you're seeing_

_Then I kiss your eyes_

_And thank God we're together_

_And I just want to stay with you in this moment forever_

_Forever and ever_

Here under the flickering lights of this school dance, I know who Ben is.

I’ve always known. I could never fear him, no matter what he did in the past.

+++

Ben’s hands are warm and insistent as they skim from my arms to my waist to my hips as I fumble trying to unlock my trailer’s front door. My fingers are too cold to function, I think. 

“Hurry up,” he laughs into the back of my neck, hooking an arm around my waist and grinding himself into me from behind, already rock hard.

“You’re being distracting,” I say sternly, and for that, he slips a hand under my skirt to squeeze the back of my thigh before cupping my butt cheek.

Finally, the door pops open, and before I can make a mental note to oil the locks tomorrow, Ben is hustling me into the trailer with a growl, kicking the door shut behind him. His hands are everywhere, big and urgent as they squeeze and pull at me, making my skin burn and my heart race. I can feel the wild want churning out of Ben, and nothing, _nothing_ , riles me up faster.

“Kitchen. Now,” he says, pushing me gently ahead of him, casually shrugging out of his jacket and stripping off his tie. I watch his fluid, graceful movements, the smoldering intent in his eyes making heat pool low in my belly.

I stand awkwardly in the kitchen, not entirely sure of what he wants from me, but I don’t have too much time to think before he crowds me against the kitchen counter, his hands planted on either side of me, gripping the counter. He’s already breathing hard, and the look on his face is positively feral, but when his lips meet mine, they’re strangely gentle. His plush lips are soft and seeking, as if they’re asking me permission for something.

My fingers trace the sharp angle of his jaw as I kiss him back tenderly, and I feel that ribbon of lust and love and need pulling between us, and I sense then what Ben is asking me. _Do you trust me? Will you put yourself in my hands? Can I have control?_

In answer, I nip his lower lip, and he rears back with a subtle growl.

“I want you like this…” he mutters, turning me to face the counter, the edge biting into my hips. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night. Watching you dance…”

He wraps a hand around my shoulder and pushes me down until my cheek is pressed against the cool formica, and he leans over me, caging me under the warmth of his big body. I feel trapped, pressed, embraced, comforted by his size and by the hungry energy in his voice as he whispers hotly in my ear when he’s not nipping my neck.

“You’re such a good girl, Rey, but you don’t know how sexy you are. You don’t know how juicy your ass looks when you’re wiggling around.”

Ben slides a hand under my skirt and gives my butt cheek a firm smack that makes me gasp. It smarts, but he rubs my backside to smooth the sting as he kisses the back of my neck with heated, luxurious kisses.

“The first time I saw you dancing was in P.E. Instant boner. I jerked off to visions of this sweet little ass for months.”

His voice is low and rough, and the more he says, the harder, the faster my heart beats. Ben’s hand hooks in my panties and drags them down, and I shiver as the air hits my nether region, wriggling until he smacks me again.

“Stay still. Close your eyes. I’m going to take care of you.”

Ben shifts off me, sliding his hands down the length of my body until he’s holding me by my hips, and when I feel his warm breath at my core, I realize he must be kneeling behind me. With thick fingers squeezing into my flesh, and his breath ghosting my delicate folds, I feel myself getting unreasonably wet with anticipation, and when his tongue strokes along my slit, I cry out at the sensation.

It’s not the first time he’s used his tongue on me, but bent over like this, giving myself over to him, I am oversensitive to every stroke and flicker, every obscene glide, and when he blows and sucks at my clit, I whimper and moan, feeling my tight inner muscles flutter and clench around nothing in response.

“Ben, please,” I whisper, needing, wanting. The heat in me is too much, and I know I’m dripping wet with arousal. I can hear it in the wet, sloppy sounds of his mouth and tongue as he eats me out.

In response, he bites the back of my thigh, making me squeal. I hear a rustle behind me, and I know he’s standing, unfastening his slacks. Just the sound of the zipper is making me pant.

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, notching the thick head of his cock at my entrance. One hand finds mine, lacing his fingers through as he pins it to the top of the kitchen counter. The other holds steady, firm on my hip as he begins to push into me slowly, his cock eased by how wet I am. I moan a muffled sound into the counter as he bottoms out, my core squeezing around him. He groans slightly, “God, you feel good. So tight and so good, Rey.”

I can’t help it. Every time he tells me how good I am, I clench around his cock, gasping helplessly. Ben can sense my increasing desperation, I know he can, because he leans over me, pressing a kiss to the nape of my neck, and he begins to pump into me in smooth, steady strokes.

“Do you like how I fuck you?” he asks, his voice hitching raggedly as his pace increases, my kitchen filling with the sound of his hips, his balls slapping against me, and I moan in reply. “Ah, you do.”

Ben’s fingers grip me brutally as his thrusts grow sharper, and I feel my hips bruise against the edge of the counter. I wince, but it feels so good, this ache inside me as Ben hits the same bliss-making spot again and again until I can only see a spin of colored lights behind my eyelids, and I hear myself scream as I climax, almost as if I’m outside my own body.

As I go boneless and shudder violently with my orgasm, Ben gives a shout as he slams into me a final few times, his tempo uneven, hips stuttering as he comes deep inside me. He collapses over me, his chest pressing heavily against my back, his breath shaky.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, kissing my cheek and slowly pulling his cock out of me. “You’re amazing. My good girl, Rey.”

I lay across the counter, barely able to hold myself up my legs are shaking so hard. After a moment of bustling around the kitchen, Ben wipes at my thighs with a damp paper towel, cleaning his spend as it drips out of me. I can’t think of a thing to say I’m so thoroughly sated, and I let Ben gather me up in his arms to carry me to bed.

I’m not aware of anything until the next morning, when Ben kisses me gently to wake me up. I grunt and snuffle, frowning against the curve of his neck briefly, as my sleepy brain fights consciousness.

“Mmm… mornin’, Ben” My voice is thick and groggy, and I blink against the sunlight streaming through my blinds. I haven’t woken up next to Ben since our trip to the beach, but he’s here, holding me close to him now, warm and solid and comforting, especially in the chill morning.

“Mornin’…” he whispers, kissing me again, and the more I wake up, the more I can see the beatific expression on his face. “How are you feeling?”

I yawn and stretch, feeling a little achier than usual between my legs, and then I cuddle into him. He smells of sweaty boy this morning, but that makes sense after a night of dancing. It’s still Ben, and I remind myself that I need to steal more of his clothes so I can have that smell wrapped around me all the time when I sleep. “M’good. Little sore…”

He strokes his fingers through my hair, and he kisses the tip of my nose, as delicate with me now as he was fierce last night. “Sorry. I got a little wild with you last night.”

I trace my index finger along the line of his dimple, smiling up at him, feeling a little shy. I know I shouldn’t feel shy with Ben, but last night was different than our usual sex. He’s been vigorous before, but never that demanding, never that intense. It had been like jumping into a stormy sea, but once I’d taken the leap, Ben had been there to catch me. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” His wide mouth splits in a toothy grin, but I can tell he’s distinctly relieved, and he presses his forehead against mine. “Good. I mean… we don’t need to do that every time. But sometimes I just… I need that control.”

I kiss him sweetly. “I know. Sometimes I need to lose control.”

Everything in my life is so careful. I can never relax around anyone. I can never tell the truth. I have to be alert every moment I’m not home. Except with Ben. In our own ways, for our own reasons, we each need to let go from time to time.

He kisses me back, groaning and pressing himself against the side of my hip, where I can feel him growing hard. I laugh and squirm away from him in playful protest, and Ben kisses me again and again, whispering, “I’m sorry. I know you’re sore. Ignore it, and it’ll go away.”

Ben’s cell phone jangles from the floor, and he reaches over me to pick it up. When he sees the number, he puts a finger to his lips so I’ll keep quiet.

“Oh, hey, Mom. What’s up?”

“Yeah, it was fun. Just stayed up all night playing video games with Poe and Finn.”

Ben winks at me. I was wondering what his cover story would be. Han and Leia don’t want him spending the night here, disturbing the elderly, sickly Maz.

“…who says?”

“Oh. Um. Well…”

“Okay. Okay! Sheesh. Alright. I’m coming home. Calm down. You figured it out, alright? Bust my chops when I get home, Mom.”

Ben ends the call and looks at me with a sigh and a wry smile. “Mom says hi, and she hopes we had a good time last night.”

I groan, covering my face with my hands, as if that’ll do anything at all to ward off the embarrassment.

Busted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I commissioned the extremely talented [ RamboBrite ](https://twitter.com/_RamboBrite_) to create some art for this chapter. Please enjoy young Rey and Ben at Homecoming 1998, Jakku High class of 1999.  
>   
> Please don’t repost or steal without her permission (or my permission). 
> 
> Musical references:  
> [Barenaked Ladies “One Week”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fC_q9KPczAg)  
> [Smashing Pumpkins “Perfect”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VKYY8DxVZHE)  
> [Aerosmith “Don’t Want to Miss a Thing”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JkK8g6FMEXE)  
> The above songs were all Top 40 the week of Rey and Ben’s Homecoming dance. 1998—what a year!
> 
> Maaaaan, Poe loves Finn and has eyes for Paige (and lots of other girls and boys), and Kaydel loves Gwen, and Gwen loves Kaydel but also has eyes for Poe, and Finn has eyes for Poe and has no idea why, but he’s also in love with Rose, who definitely loves Finn. It’s complicated. Ben and Rey are pretty tame compared to all this. 
> 
> Thanks for enduring my experimental format. I didn’t want Ben to have a five-page monologue about what a bad, bad boy he was in Chandrila. I thought juxtaposing all the misery with all the sweetness of his current life would illustrate just how different his life has become since moving to Jakku. Anyway, I tried a thing. Hope it worked out.
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving, and wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, know that I am thankful for all my readers.
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	41. circular intersection ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. October/November 1998. Halloween. A session with Dr. Santekka. Winter storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I hate Halloween,” I mutter, as Rey dances around me wearing cat ears and meowing at me while I sort candy into bowls. We’ve been listening to music Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in one. Fruity stuff like Nerds and Sweet Tarts in the other.

In exchange for letting me host our friends for a movie and snack night, my parents have assigned Rey and me to candy distribution duty so they can go out to dinner and a movie later tonight. When I’d pitched a night at home instead of going to a party or a haunted house or the slasher movie marathon at the independent theater downtown or trying to trick-or-treat despite being too tall to pass as kids, Rey had eagerly agreed, as if she couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do than give candy to over-sugared children all night long. I think Rey might be even more of a homebody than me.

“Ben, you’re such a grump!” she giggles at me, swatting at me in feline movements. “Why do you hate it? Halloween is the _best_. No one looks sideways at how much candy I consume. It’s perfection.”

We’re on candy duty, armed with sacks and sacks of candy to sate the needs of the hundreds of children Mom and Dad expect to come by tonight. Rey is ridiculously delighted. She only has the cat ears that Rose gave her at school on Friday, and you’d think she’d been given a tiara, she’s so ecstatic.

“How much candy have you eaten?” I ask her, lifting an eyebrow. “There’s no way you have this much energy after the food bank, studying Calc, and our boxing workout. Unless you’ve been mainlining sugar on the sly all day.”

Rey gives me an impish grin, and I groan.

“You’re going to give yourself a stomachache.”

She doesn’t look that concerned and shotguns another box of Nerds like a demented, sugar-addicted gremlin. I kind of love it, though, and after I smack her hands away from the candy bowls so I can set them by the front door, I come back to the living room and yank her onto the couch with me. She tastes sugar sweet and candy sour as I kiss her leisurely, licking into her mouth with little flicks of my tongue as she laughs and sighs in my arms. Her fingers curl into my hair, and she arches into me teasingly.

“How much time do you think we have until your parents get back from the store?” she whispers.

“Mmm… maybe enough time, if we’re quick about it…” I murmur, slipping a hand under her sweatshirt to cup one of her pert little breasts and brush the flat of my thumb over her nipple.

Rey shivers and I dip my lips to the curve of her neck and suck a small bruise into her skin. I don’t usually mark her like this, but she’s been teasing me with flirty glances, and I’ve been half-hard for her all day. Unfortunately, when I opt to push her shirt up entirely, we hear the front door open. I’m off Rey like a shot, and she’s jerking her shirt back into place, trying to look anything but flushed. Her cat ears are crooked, I note, as she tries to straighten up, patting at her hair, trying to smooth it.

“Benny, you set for passing out candy?” Mom shouts from the foyer as Dad bustles into the kitchen with some bags of groceries.

“Um, yeah. I think we have more than enough candy.” I give Rey the side-eye she claims doesn’t exist on this so-called holiday. “Unless Rey eats it all.”

“How dare you! I’ve hardly eaten any!” Rey protests loudly, before muttering quietly to me with a grin, “Hardly any in the last ten minutes…”

I roll my eyes at her, and we try to look suitably angelic, if still flushed, when Mom wanders into the living room after helping Dad put away some of the groceries. She smiles broadly at us, and I swear I don’t know how she does, but I watch in slow-motion horror as her eyes lock in on the mark I’d just left on Rey’s neck. Shit. I’m not even sure Rey knows it’s there yet, at least, not until she notices my mom’s look, and I feel the air escape her body as she groans. Mom raises one quizzical eyebrow, and she looks at me pointedly.

“Maybe you should try eating some candy, Ben,” Mom quips.

“What did you do?” Rey looks at me, clapping a hand over her neck instinctively, turning red. “Ben!”

My brief mortification fades, and I laugh as Rey smacks my leg and rushes out of the living room to go examine my handiwork—lipwork?--in the powder room.

“Sorry!” I call out after her, not feeling particularly sorry, and Mom just snorts and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Teenagers. Good lord. But a little advice? Hickeys should go below the collar. The whole world doesn’t need to know.”

Well, the embarrassment is back now. Sex advice from my mother. I should probably just call it quits and go join a monastery and take a vow of chastity. On second thought, I can handle a little embarrassment, because I’m sure as hell not becoming celibate. No way, no how. Not when I have Rey. At least, if Rey’s willing to let me near her again after this.

Mom laughs a little and ruffles my hair on her way back into the kitchen. I hear her murmur something to Dad, and then I hear them both laugh uproariously, and I think I need to find Rey and hide until they leave for their date.

“Trick or treat!” the kids shout as soon as Rey opens the door, and she lights up as she openly admires their costumes. Little superheroes and superheroines and cartoon characters I don’t recognize practically barge into the house thrusting their candy buckets at us. I drop fistfuls of candy into each bucket dutifully, and when the kids are vibrating with the excitement of having acquired more sugar, Rey shuts the door behind them, her face glowing.

“How can you hate this? Ben, the kids are so cute, and…”

“I hate dressing up.” I grumble, taking her by the hand and pulling her back towards the living room where we’ve got bowls of chips and dip set up. Our friends are due to come over, opting for a movie night instead of any costume parties or hellraising.

Rey sighs, but she curls up next to me on the couch. “That can’t be the only thing. Halloween isn’t just about the costumes and you know it.”

“Okay. You want the truth?” I chew on my bottom lip, giving myself a moment. “This is kind of embarrassing.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.” She gives me her most earnest, solemn look, even as mirth glimmers in her eyes. I know she means it, but I don’t doubt for a moment that she won’t razz me about it in the future.

“I hate all the scary stuff. The monsters and creepy things. Devils and ghosts and zombies and vampires. All that stuff gave me the worst nightmares as a kid, and it isn’t any better now. And that’s all anyone wants to do for a solid fucking month—watch scary-ass movies that make it impossible for me to sleep.”

According to my uncle Luke, Halloween a heathen holiday and people open themselves to the temptations of darkness. The devil is waiting for people to let down their guard. The devil is _always_ waiting, and he doesn’t care if your intentions are harmless or not. He’s there, and he’ll take your soul. Luke was always so adamant about it, that it had taken my normal, childish fears and warped them further. His talk about ageless evil had fueled my nightmares for years. When I’d told my mother what he’d said, and she’d realized why her young son no longer slept, she’d screamed at him over the phone and cut him off for years. She went years without speaking to her twin brother, until I needed that letter from him, attesting to my good character so I wouldn’t go to juvy.

“Aw, Ben,” Rey says consolingly, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “So October’s your own personal month of endless torment? I wish you’d told me!”

“I mostly try to pretend like Halloween doesn’t exist, even though people start up with the ‘spooky season’ crap on October 1st. My parents never ask me to do anything besides pass out candy, and when I was little, they’d let me skip school on Halloween so I could stay home and avoid any potential blood and guts.” I shrug slightly. It’s been a fact of my life for so long. While it’s kind of expected that we participate in all the family stuff, for Army esprit de corps, or whatever, my parents have never pushed, and we only do simple pumpkin or fall harvest-themed decorations outside.

“But how do you watch _The X-Files_!? It’s so gruesome sometimes,” she says, wrinkling her nose at some memory of slime, goo, and mutant guts from the show.

“Yeah, but… it’s not that intense. It’s TV intense. And I watch it here, with my parents, and you, and the lights on. And I think it’s because it’s about the investigators and not really from the perspective of the people getting hurt, for the most part. I don’t know. It just doesn’t hit me the way, like… _The Exorcist_ would or some dumb Freddy Krueger movie. I had a hard time watching _Ghostbusters_ as a kid, too. The ghost lady in the library traumatized me.”

Rey doesn’t laugh. She just gives me a sympathetic look, and says fiercely, as if she’s ready to don armor and defend me from the darkness all by herself, “Well, when the others get here, we don’t have to watch anything that’ll give you nightmares. We can say it’s because of me.”

God. This girl.

She tucks her chin on my shoulder sweetly, and I lean my head against hers. “You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”

I won’t let her take the blame for spoiling anyone’s hopes of a horror movie night. No way. I’ll be the ogre.

“I thought I was a candy gremlin?” she teases.

“You can be two things. So what is it you like about Halloween? Besides the candy?”

Rey makes a face at me, then settles back against me comfortably. “When I was little, Maz would take me trick-or-treating. She’d buy me a mask, and we’d cobble together a costume from whatever we had on hand. Maz was so creative, Ben. I loved doing projects with her.”

Her little hand steals into mine, and I squeeze it, as she continues to speak, her words softening with feeling, “I can take or leave scary stuff, but I love watching families having fun together, like I used to with Maz. It’s _wonderful_.”

The doorbell rings again, and I suspect we’ve got another horde of kids to give candy to. I haul myself off the couch, and I get to the front door as fast as I can with Rey right behind me, her footsteps light.

“That’ll be us one day,” I tell her, unable to keep the smile off my face as the image of our future blooms in my mind, rosy and warm. A brisk autumn evening, trailing short-legged children in homemade costumes, Rey at my side as sunny and untroubled as I’ve ever seen her. “I can get over my Halloween hate if it’ll put a smile on your face. For our family.”

I’ll at least try. For her.

“Our family,” Rey echoes, her dimples deepening, a lovely flush warming her cheeks.

I’d kiss her, but as she pulls open the front door, all our friends are there, screaming, “Trick or treat!”

Poe, Rose, Finn, Gwen, and Kaydel tumble into the foyer exuberantly and the household volume goes up exponentially.

Amidst the chaos of greeting everyone, Poe grins and grabs for Rey’s cat ears, and she meows and hisses, swatting at him playfully. But his eyes alight on something else, and a thousand-watt smile brightens his face.

“Ooooh, looky there! Nice hickey, Rey! Solo, you sly dog!”

“What!? Rey!” Rose squeals, unable to contain her mirth. “Let me see!”

Finn is laughing, but at least he attempts to rein everyone in. “Can you leave peanut alone? She looks like she’s going to burst into flames.”

I seriously doubt anyone thinks we’ve just been holding hands this whole time, but the scrutiny is a little overwhelming.

Rey gives me the dirtiest look, but there isn’t much time to contemplate what fate I’ll meet at Rey’s hands later, because the living room and the snacks and the cushions and blankets and comforts of a movie night beckon.

+++

“Ben, you know it’s a school night,” Mom chides as I walk into the kitchen late on Monday night. “You need to at least call to check in.”

There’s only a hint of admonishment that fades entirely when I set the envelope of Homecoming dance pictures in front of her, and she gasps with unrestrained delight.

“Sorry. I was studying at the library, and then I went to have dinner with Rey after she got off work.”

“Don’t forget she needs time to get her homework done, too, Ben,” Mom says absently, pulling the sheets of prints out of the photography studio’s envelope. “I’m hoping if she keeps her grades up that we can convince her to apply to college next year.”

“She does all her homework at Charlie’s. She’s got the place running so smoothly, all she has to do is water the plants and hang out most of the time. Besides, she’s doing better than I am in Calc 2. She keeps acing the tests.”

“Of course she does. Has Rey seen these yet? She’ll want one of the 8x10s. Ooh, we should get some nice frames. Do you mind if I take a few to send to friends?”

Mom’s off in her own little world, concern about my lateness and grades forgotten in her excitement over the pictures.

“Take what you want. Why?”

Mom looks up at me, entirely perplexed by my question. “Why do I want to send pictures of you to my friends?”

I nod.

“Benny. Come here,” she says, motioning for me to come sit by her. It’s not close enough, because she wraps me in a tight hug, kissing the side of my head. “Because I’m proud of you. That’s why I want to send pictures. I want them to see how grown up you are.”

She sniffles, and I know the signs of danger. She’s about to meltdown in another episode of empty nest syndrome. I pat her back and hug her.

“They’re your pictures, anyway, Mom. You dressed us up and made us go and made me select the biggest photo package from the studio.”

Mom laughs, exhaling a groan. “I did, didn’t I? Am I the worst, most meddlesome mother?”

I stand up and kiss the top of her head, restraining my grin. “Yep.”

After my mother swats at me and calls me a scoundrel, I head upstairs to check email and look at my notes again. It just turns into aimless internet surfing, and there are only so many hours of the hamster dance one can endure before deciding to log into AIM.

I look over the list of people online, and on an impulse, I double-click to send a message.

**xXBenOSXx:** How you feeling after that Calc test?

 **HuxSupreme:** Like my brain got ripped out through my asshole. You?

 **xXBenOSXx:** That sounds uncomfortable. I don’t know about my asshole. Maybe my ear?

 **HuxSupreme:** Lucky you.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Even Rey was rattled by that test. She says Tarkin was playing dirty with some of those questions.

 **HuxSupreme:** I don’t fucking doubt it. The man’s a monster. Anyway, did you want something?

 **xXBenOSXx:** Nope. Just attempting to be social.

 **HuxSupreme:** Are you terminal or something?

 **xXBenOSXx:** You’re right. Only someone on their deathbed would try to talk to you.

 **HuxSupreme:** Har har har. Go fuck yourself.

 **xXBenOSXx:** See you Monday.

I snort slightly. Even on a good day, Hux is sour-faced and in a miserable mood, but there’s no need to be at war with him. Not after Rey told me of his apology. And from what I’d gathered at school, whatever falling out he’d had with Snap had reverberated through his social life, and he was now almost completely isolated socially.

AIM pings again with another message notification, and I sigh. It’s getting late, but I see the IM is from Poe.

He’s been… weird… since the dance. Too buoyantly happy, even for him. And I have my suspicions why.

**ImPOEssible:** Solo.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Dameron.

 **ImPOEssible:** What am I going to do?

 **xXBenOSXx:** About developing feelings for people who are already in relationships? Or don’t live in your ZIP code?

 **ImPOEssible:** Okay, I was talking about my AP US History project.

 **xXBenOSXx:** Sorry. I thought… never mind. Sorry, dude. 

**ImPOEssible:** …

 **ImPOEssible:** But you’re not wrong. I need to move on. He’s not… anyway, whatever. We’re still friends, at least. Paige, too.

 **xXBenOSXx:** That’s good. It’ll work out, dude. Honestly. 

I hope so, anyway. It feels weird being the consoling voice in a relationship conversation. My experience is limited to one girl, one relationship, and I can only halfway imagine what Poe’s going through. He doesn’t have the luxury of looking his parents in the eye and saying what he’s feeling and who he’s feeling it for. And considering he wants to be in the military, like his dad… well.

Poe and I talk a little more about his history project, and I try to give him some pointers, but eventually it’s late and I log off. After I crawl into bed, pulling the thick comforter over myself, I drift off thinking of Rey and everything we’ve been through, and I am grateful that despite all the secrets we still have to keep, at least we don’t have to be secret about who we are to each other.

+++

“I finally told Rey about Chandrila.”

Dr. Santekka looks up from his notebook with interest. We’d been sitting in his office silently, each in our usual chairs. It’s been two weeks since I told her. I haven’t wanted to talk about it again, and I’ve watched her, seeing if there are any doubts in her, but when she looks at me, I see a whole galaxy of love in her eyes. _How? Why?_ I wonder, sometimes, amazed at how kind the universe is to me.

“You’ve been worried about that for quite some time. How did it go?”

“Rey, she… she was shocked. I could tell. She was so quiet and grave. She doesn’t know me like _that_. She’s only ever seen glimpses of what happens when I lose control.”

He tilts his head with interest. “And now that she knows about your past, how is she?”

“She says she still loves me. She says we can’t change the past, but the future isn’t set. She believes in me. She still looks at me like I could do _anything_ , like I could walk through fire or a raging ocean for her… I wonder if I’ll ever live up to it.”

I laugh slightly and tilt my head back against the plush chair.

“Let’s talk about that. What are the assumptions you just made?”

“Um. Alright. That Rey has unrealistic expectations, that she thinks I’m perfect.” I drum my fingers on the sides of the chair. “And that I am not capable of making her happy.”

“What else?”

I groan. He always does this. I think I’ve found every illogical thought, and he always finds just one more. This guy is thoroughly exasperating at moments like these, but he’s usually right. “Shit. Okay. That I have to live up to anyone’s expectations.”

Okay. Saying it out loud like that, I can see the flaws already. Dr. Santekka arches an eyebrow at me.

“Are any of these things true?”

“No. Rey’s… she’s a realist. She’s the most practical person I know. If she thought I was screwing up, she’d tell me.” I’m probably Rey’s biggest risk. She’s told me how afraid she was to get close to me, how she knew if she did, her secret wouldn’t be a secret much longer. “She knows better than anyone that I’m not perfect. She loves me, anyway.”

“She loves you anyway. So this bright, practical girl looks at you and sees someone worthy. These are all good things, Ben.”

I snort and roll my eyes, but I can’t help laughing. “Well, when you put it that way, it all sounds great. But it’s a lot of pressure.”

Dr. Santekka laughs with me. “Only if you let it be.”

+++

_My love._

I trace my lips across her brow before I slip carefully out of her arms while she sleeps. I hate to leave her, but it’s late, and while my parents politely don’t comment on most of my comings and goings these days, getting home at 3 a.m. isn’t going to thrill them. They’re concerned I’m disturbing the peace of Rey’s aunt, but since she hasn’t called them to complain, they haven’t interfered too much. My latest report card from school has also gone a long way to keeping their trust intact.

They keep picking at Rey, however, in their quest to make sure she’s alright. She’s had to come up with increasingly inventive stories that make it sound like Maz is alive and well. She takes Maz to the grocery store, and Maz rides the mobility scooter. She drives Maz to doctor’s appointments, and Maz sasses the doctor. She listens to country music on the radio with Maz. Maz thinks I need a haircut. But more than anything, as much as possible, Rey tries to avoid discussions about Maz.

The more questions they ask, the more Rey tries to pull away out of worry and fear. But I can’t let her do that. There’s some nagging sense that if I’m not with Rey every moment, something awful will happen. I know that’s the frayed wiring of my brain making me believe only bad things will happen. At least, that’s what Dr. Santekka tells me. But every time I try to talk myself out of it, it’s there, the core truth that Rey needs me.

I’ll die before I leave Rey’s side.

_“Maybe I shouldn’t go over to your house so much. I’ve made such a big deal about Maz being sick and lonely, and if I’m never there…” her voice drifts off slowly, her lips curling in a frown. “It’ll look like I’m lying, or worse, like I don’t care about her. Ben, this is why I was so scared to be close to you. The more people know of me, the more chances there are that they’ll see something isn’t right.”_

_“No, Rey.” I press my lips to her temple, trying to soothe her. I can feel the rippling panic, the old frantic worry that used to run underneath our interactions. “If you stop coming around, my parents will start wondering if something’s wrong at home.”_

_She sighs and grumbles, burrowing against my side as if she just can’t find enough body heat on her own. This damn trailer of hers is so drafty, and it’s not even December. Goddamn it. I’m going to rummage at home for more blankets for her, or hint to Mom that Rey might need a sweater or something._

_“So if I’m there, they grill me about Maz. And if I’m not there, they’ll think something is terribly wrong and show up at my door.”_

_“That about sums it up.”_

_“Then what do I do?”_

_“No—what do we do?” I correct her, reaching for the old, crocheted afghan and tucking it around us. We’d been eating leftover spaghetti out of plastic bowls on her lumpy couch and idly watching Jeopardy! and Wheel of Fortune._

_“We keep lying,” she mutters. “Can you… can you tell your parents that things are going okay here? Money-wise? I mean… don’t say Maz won the lottery or anything, but maybe say that there’d been some kind of social security mistake that’s been fixed?”_

_“Rey…” My voice holds a warning note that makes the corner of her mouth lift up sheepishly. “No, sweetheart. They’ll know. It’ll be like before when you were barely getting by. They knew something was wrong back then, and they won’t believe that everything’s just been magically fixed. Especially if you…”_

_“Keep showing up hungry and looking like a bag of rags?” Her voice is so pointedly unhappy that I tug her onto my lap. She wriggles against me, but I tighten my grip until she settles._

_“That’s not what I was going to say.”_

_Rey gives me a grumpy look, and I sigh. “Okay, it was kind of what I was going to say, but you don’t look like a bag of rags. You never have.”_

_“Liar.”_

_“Well, I’ve never cared what you wore. I only saw you. Just you.”_

I dress as quietly as possible, but my keys jangle as I pick them up, and Rey groans and mumbles, reaching an arm over the edge of the bed, brushing her fingers against the side of my leg. “Ben? What time is it?”

“Late… my parents are going to be mad if I don’t come home tonight. I’ve got to work at the commissary in a few hours.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, and she snuggles close, her voice drowsy. “Mmm. Wish you could stay. Gets cold without you.”

I pick some of her pillows off the floor and tuck them around her so she can burrow.

“I know. I’ll see you Monday morning, sweetheart.”

She nods sleepily, closing her eyes. I’m not even sure she counts as awake right now.

“Mkay. Miss you, Benny.”

+++

“Rey, why don’t you and your aunt come over for Thanksgiving? We really want to meet her, and we always make way too much food. If the hour gets late, you can both stay the night,” Mom says warmly in her most encouraging tones.

She brushes the hair back from Rey’s face and tucks it behind her ear. Rey’s hair is its usual flyaway mess, falling out of her three buns.

“You and Maz don’t need to stay by yourselves. Besides, we’ll have Charlie over, and a few of Han’s friends and some of my single soldiers who can’t go home for the holidays will be here. It’s going to be one big party.”

My parents have walked with us into the foyer to wish Rey a goodnight before I take her home. We’d been celebrating Rey’s perfect PSAT score, and Dad had been cheerfully teasing her all night, asking why the smartest girl in Jakku wanted to date a pain in the ass like me, until she had scolded him right back, asking why the smartest woman she’d ever met was married to a cocky flyboy.

_“Well, that’s because I’m charming. Right, Leia?”_

Mom had just rolled her eyes at him and stifled a laugh, even though her lips twitched from the effort.

Rey smiles brightly at my mother then makes a sincerely regretful face. We’d already anticipated the invitation, and she knew what to say. “That sounds amazing, but Maz and I always go to Aunt Linda’s for Thanksgiving. She’s picking us up and taking us home with her for a couple of days.”

Days? I try not to give Rey too much side-eye if she thinks I’m going to go days without seeing her over a long weekend from school. No need to overdo the excuses, I think. Not when it cuts into the time we can spend cuddled together in bed.

“Your Aunt Linda’s welcome here, too, Rey. We have more than enough room. Besides, you need to try my squash casserole. Three kinds of cheese, kiddo,” Dad says, as if that’s all the lure to get Rey to change her mind.

Her head does tilt in interest, but she just laughs. “Can you save me some? I don’t want to live a life of regret if I miss out on something that cheese-tastic.”

“Alright, it’s a deal. I’ll set some aside for you.” Dad points his index finger at her as if he’s scolding her, even though his ton is gruffly jovial. “Now, I don’t normally do that, but you’re a special case.”

I hold up Rey’s coat so she can slip her arms into it before I reach for my own coat. Rey’s back in her shabby gray coat I remember so well from February. It’s missing a button or two on the pockets, and there are some patches worn shiny from age. Her wrists poke out awkwardly, but she shoves her hands into her pockets, looking up at me expectantly as I take my time getting ready to step out into the cold.

Mom hands Rey her backpack, loaded with leftover containers from our dinner of meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and she glances at me. “I hate to hurry you two out the door, but the weather is supposed to take a turn tonight. I need you back home before the rain turns to ice, Ben.”

Dad holds the door and grins. “Keep the necking to a minimum. It’ll keep until tomorrow.”

I groan and roll my eyes, and Rey, as always, blushes fiercely. She waves and chirps, “Goodnight. See you later,” then makes her escape, and I just shake my head at my dad. He still thinks he’s funny. Okay, if I’m being fair, I can see how my parents would continue to be amused. 

He sighs and laughs, patting my back as I head out the door after her. “Sorry, kid. Boundaries. I know.”

The wind is kicking up, and I can feel it really pushing the Wagoneer from side to side as I drive. I’d expect a smaller car to get buffered around, but not my sturdy SUV. The traffic signals are swinging over each intersection, and the rain begins to pick up, lashing angrily across my windshield as the wiper struggles to keep up.

“Are you going to be alright tonight?” I ask, pulling in front of her trailer. The branches in the trees at the edge of trailer park groan with the force of the wind. Her trailer suddenly seems rather fragile to my eyes, even though logically I know it has probably lasted through worse.

Rey shrugs, unconcerned, then kisses my cheek. “It’s not the first storm that’s come through Jakku, and it won’t be the last. Even if the power cuts out, it’s usually back on in a few hours.”

I frown slightly and brush my fingers over the soft skin of her cheek before kissing her. Something nags at the back of my mind, some feeling I can’t quite shake, and I fight the impulse to just back out of the driveway and take her home with me. I swallow it back, quickly going over this pulse of fear the way Dr. Santekka would want me to.

There’s nothing here out of the ordinary, I tell myself. It’s just bad weather. Rey is safe.

“I want you to call me first thing in the morning, so I know you’re okay.”

“You worry too much, sweetheart,” she says with a teasing smile, tracing a finger along my dimples.

“That’s the diagnosis.” My voice is wry, but I grin and shrug at her, and she leans in to kiss me tenderly. I savor the softness of her lips, the warmth and love of her kiss. I want to wrap my arms around her and never let her go. But, unfortunately, I must, and I fight the urge to glare at her trailer, as if it’s at fault for separating us.

“I better get going. You still have to drive back in this mess.” She grabs her backpack and slides out of the passenger seat before glancing back up at me, hazel eyes twinkling. “Oh, and Ben? Drive safe. I love you.”

“I know.”

+++

She doesn’t call.

The storm howls pitilessly all night long, and our lights flicker on and off and on and off for hours, leaving us sitting in the dark. I go to bed early and huddle under my blankets, wondering how Rey is faring until I slip into a troubled sleep of shadows and loss and panicked cries.

When I wake the next morning, I’m exhausted and feel drained as the sun shines through the crack in my curtains. I groan, rubbing my eyes and pull the curtain back to see that there’s frost fading on the grass, and the wind has ripped branches from the trees and knocked over the decorative fences around the neighbor’s flowerbeds. There are leaves everywhere, and even some roof tiles on the lawn below. I wonder how I slept through all that.

At least the power is back on.

I eat breakfast. Drink coffee.

I don’t hear from Rey, but it’s early yet, so I follow my dad around the yard, helping him pick up debris.

Hours tick by.

Nine.

I try calling her, but there’s no answer. The local newscaster says half of Jakku is having phone and power outages after the storm.

Ten.

I try calling again. It rings. And rings. And rings.

Eleven.

I try to tell myself the power’s just out. Her phone’s just out. There’s no reason to think otherwise. The best-case scenario is the most-likely scenario. This is my fucking stupid anxiety brain overriding common sense. That’s all it is. That’s all. I cannot jump to the worst conclusion.

There’s nothing productive about always assuming something is wrong.

“Dad, I gotta go,” I blurt, picking up the phone, then slamming it back down again just as quickly.

He looks at me, startled. He’d been half in the refrigerator, rummaging for something to eat. “Benny, you okay?”

“I’m going to check on Rey. If she and Maz don’t have power, um, they’re gonna need me to bring them something to eat. They might need help cleaning things up around the trailer. It’s not as sturdy a house, so…” I try to keep my voice from sounding too frantic, but I’m talking too fast.

Mom meanders into the kitchen, and I assume she’s done making calls to check on her soldiers. “You want me to go with you, Ben?”

Okay. Okay. I have to calm my shit down. Deep breath. I shake my head and try to give her a relaxed smile.

“Uh, no. I’m sure it’s fine. I’m just… I just need to go see.”

Mom frowns slightly. “Alright. Well, go on, then. Drive carefully and avoid downed powerlines if you see any. Call from your cell phone when you know what’s going on.”

“I’m sure it’s fine. Just… me being me, I guess,” I tell her, already headed to the foyer to bundle into my coat and grab my keys.

Jakku is a mess after the storm. Half the derelict strip malls I drive past have no power. There’s debris everywhere. As I get toward Rey’s side of town, there aren’t many signs of life. In Jakku Acres, the trailers all seem to be in one piece, but there’s plenty of debris on the ground. One of the more dilapidated trailers is now missing its screen door. I don’t see many people around, but then again, I never do. No one here is neighborly, according to Rey, mostly being renters who never stay long. By Rey’s assessment, there’s not much reason to state.

Rey’s Ford Escort is still parked in front of her trailer, and it doesn’t look any worse for the wear.

My eyes move over her trailer, assessing carefully. Screen door is still there. One of the shutters is dangling precariously, peeled away from the flimsy siding. That’s when I notice the living room window is shattered, and I lurch out of the Wagoneer.

The TV antenna has gone through it, ostensibly ripped from its mount on the roof and whipped into the glass, held only by the connecting cables. Shit.

“Rey?” I call out, assuming she can hear me if her window’s gone. I feel my heart begin hammering in my chest. I don’t care if I disturb any of her neighbors. If she’s inside, if she’s been cut up by shattered glass, she’s going to need me. She’s going to need serious help. I’ll have to—

That’s when I see her. Crumpled just beyond her porch on the ground.

My heart stops painfully, and I lose every thought in my head except for her as I stumble toward her as fast as I can, my legs suddenly uncoordinated in my panic.

“Rey!”

She doesn’t respond. Her body is twisted, crumpled haphazardly, her arm at an angle no arm is supposed to be. She looks so small and broken, that I take some breaths to steady myself and find my focus. Rey needs me right now.

Don’t die.

Don’t die.

Don’t die.

My brain is pulsing unhelpfully with every out of control thought it can muster up for me, until I close my eyes and force myself to cram the negativity into a box.

I wonder how long she’s been out here like this, alone and unconscious, because her skin has a faintly bluish tinge. It’s cold out, and she’s not even wearing her coat, just a thin sweater and jeans and some ratty old tennis shoes I’m guessing she’d quickly pulled on. Not even socks. _Fucking hell, Rey,_ I think to myself as my hands shake. _What the fuck were you doing?_

My urge is to pick her up and cradle her slight body to my chest, as if I can simply heal her through touch, but we’ve been covering first aid in that stupid Health class that suddenly doesn’t seem so stupid after all. Don’t move her. Don’t move her, I remind myself. I don’t know if it’s a spinal injury. I lean over her to press my ear to her chest, and I can hear the rattle of her faint breath, the weak thump of her heartbeat, and I gulp back a sob. Alive. Alive but cold.

I can’t get my coat off fast enough to cover her. I need to warm her up. I know that much. I need… fuck. Fuck. I fumble for my cell phone, fishing it out of my coat pocket.

My fingers somehow have the coordination to do what I need them to do.

“911. What’s your emergency?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben hates Halloween the way dogs hate the 4th of July. And oops! Luke’s weird about Halloween and made it worse for Ben.
> 
> [Hamster Dance!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WpMlwVwydo)
> 
> Calling all passengers to board the angst train! Destination, happy ending. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	42. right two lanes closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. November 1998. The hospital. Rey is big sad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is everything so loud? Who’s touching me? I blink against the too-bright light, trying to remember where I am. Outside?

“Rey? Hold on, Rey. I’m going to be right behind you.”

I feel a warm hand on mine. I know this hand.

“Ben? Wha--”

I’m moving my mouth, but no sound is coming out. I feel like my world is tilting on its axis, and there are too many voices, too many hands, and I’m moving, and there’s a mask over my face as I stare up at a ceiling? But that doesn’t make sense, and I try to pull at my mask, but it hurts, my arm hurts, and there’s a pain as the whole room seems to rumble and jostle and I’m lost again in the dark.

The murmuring voices get louder, and my head throbs, making me groan and shift against scratchy sheets until I blink blearily, blinded under the too-bright lights that make my head feel as if its splitting open.

“Shi—Rey! Mom, she’s—Rey, sweetheart.”

I hear a flustered movement, and suddenly a hand, large and warm and familiar touches mine. It all still hurts too much, and I cringe away, and the warmth of his hand is withdrawn. Ben’s hand? My mind won’t hold the thought.

I turn my head, and I try to rub at my face, but I’m connected to something sharp, and I jerk unsteadily, realizing my left arm is heavy and pinned against my chest. I grunt, trying to wrench myself free, but it only hurts, and the more it hurts, the more aware I am of the fact that I don’t know where I am, or how I got here, and a rising panic blooms in my chest.

There’s a cool hand on my forehead, briefly, before the woman—Leia?—eases me back against the… I guess I’m in a hospital bed, and I give her a baleful look, as she makes tutting noises.

“Hold still, Rey. You’ve got an IV in your arm, and you don’t want to snag it.”

Right. Wait, what?

“Whaa happened?” My voice sounds strange, weak and warbly.

“You fell,” she replies, briskly looking over me to assess my state of being. I don’t know what she sees, because I don’t know, myself. She leans past me to press some buttons. Call button? I… I don’t know.

I look around the room, and now with my eyes focusing, with my pulse beating in my ears, I can see I’m in a hospital room, in a hospital bed under a window, a TV mounted precariously from the wall, and a curtain pulled. There’s a monitor next to me, measuring my heartbeat, and an IV bag dripping something into me.

I’ve been so fixated on figuring out where I am, I haven’t even looked at myself. I look down at myself, and I see I’m covered by a blanket. Hospital gown. Okay. I vaguely wonder where my clothes have gone. I’ll need to find my clothes.

And Ben’s standing over me, his heart in his red-rimmed eyes, his jaw working as if he has three hundred things to say, and he’s not sure which one should be first. I’ve never seen him look so gray. He looks like he can’t decide whether to stay at my side or gather me in his arms and carry me out of this place altogether, and the despair and panic tells me enough. It’s over. It’s over for me.

“Ben, I—”

He shakes his head as if he doesn’t need to hear what I have to say. As if he knows the wild terror blooming in my chest telling me that I shouldn’t be here, that I need to find a way to leave and go home and maybe if I lay low, this will all blow over, and I can…

Fuck.

Can I go home?

I shift slightly, trying to sit up, and a wave of pain rises from my sides that makes me clothes my eyes and pant through it.

“N-no, don’t move,” he says, his voice a gasp of panic as he fumbles for a little control panel that’s attached to the bed. The bed makes a whirring noise as it levers me upright slowly, and Leia pulls her chair closer to the bed, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. Ben found you this morning. You’ll recover. It’s alright,” she tells me softly.

It’s not okay. It’s not alright. I know this as sure as I know anything.

If my head didn’t feel so simultaneously swimmy and foggy and achey, I could think through this. I think I could find my way out of this room and out of this mess, but I’m beginning to suspect I’m stuck here. If I can’t move without pain, I’m not going to get far. Then there’s the matter of my arm. It’s wrapped tight and splinted, cradled against my chest in a sling of some kind.

Did I… it’s got to be broken. I can feel the ache up to my shoulder and into my neck. Holy shit.

I breathe.

I close my eyes, unable to look at Ben or Leia when they’re looking at me with those pained expressions, their warm, brown eyes so alike.

The antenna. It had shattered the window. I remember that. And with the power out, and the window gone, the trailer had been so terribly cold. I’d rummaged in the trailer park dumpster to find cardboard to cover the window, but I knew I needed to unhook the antenna before that could happen.

My head throbs, and I feel a roil in my stomach as I try to pull at threads of memory.

I remember climbing on the roof with my tools and taking maybe two steps as I realize there was still ice in some spots. Then a sense of panic as my head swims and aches like my thoughts are fighting each other, like one is throwing the other from one side of my skull to the other, WWE-style.

My stomach lurches again, and I claw frantically for the edge of the bed to lean over and heave, emptying my stomach’s contents on the clean floor, just barely missing Leia, making her gasp and jump.

I’m so trapped. I’m so trapped. It’s all over, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.

When I look up, I see the shocked face of Leia Organa-Solo.

“Oh, Rey, honey…”

Her eyes are so wide with concern, so like Ben’s in the way they mirror every emotion within her, and I can see the worry and the pity and the anger and the love. She knows.

“I’m sorrry,” I slur miserably in my weird voice, trying to wipe at my mouth uselessly.

I’m so embarrassed, so tired, so afraid, in so much pain, I begin to cry helpless tears.

“Ben, go see where the nurse or doctor is,” Leia mutters, moving to avoid my mess as she leans over to hug me gently and soothe my hair back from my face.

He must hesitate, not wanting to leave me, and I feel the air crackle with frustration as Leia speaks to him.

“Ben, get the goddamn nurse _right now_ ,” she snaps at him, and he goes, casting me a doleful look beforehand.

Leia holds me, careful of the splint, careful of the wiring keeping me tethered to the IV and the heart monitor, as I cry until I feel wrung out, unable to meet her knowing eyes. It feels strange to be on my own, so vulnerable and exposed like this, without my love at my side.

“Pleasse don’t be madd at himm,” I ask of her, frowning at how my words sound.

She releases a strangled noise, as if she’s not sure whether she wants to cry or laugh. “Oh, I’m very mad at him. And you. How can the two of you be so smart and so thoroughly stupid? Fucking hell, Rey…”

I’m shocked. Leia’s never sworn in front of me before, and she just sounds so beleaguered and sad. However, she’s cut off by the arrival of Ben, followed by a doctor and an orderly, the latter of whom begins to clean up my mess.

The doctor is a gray-haired woman with kind but serious blue eyes. “Ah, there you are, Miss Sands! Awake at last. Your friends here have been keeping close watch over you.”

I shrug half-heartedly, looking at my hands. Leia moves out of the way so the doctor can have access to me, and Ben’s taken his seat on the other side of my bed, and he looks over me as if my state of being would have changed in the minutes he’s been out of my room.

“Your young man hasn’t left your side since the EMTs brought you in.”

Ben’s hand brushes my arm lightly, and I find a steadiness in his eyes, and it’s enough to hold onto for the moment.

“I can believe that,” I whisper, and he looks away from me, hiding the turmoil of emotions on his face.

The doctor pulls up a stool next to me, and I hunch closer to Ben who rubs a soothing hand over my shoulder. She smiles benignly, seeming to understand that nothing’s going to happen unless I have Ben here with me. Leia certainly understands that, but she’s more focused on the doctor at the moment.

“I’ve got plenty to discuss with you, but first, I’m going to give you a number. 37. Can you remember that?” she asks with a little smile, and I acknowledge her with a subtle movement of my head that isn’t quite a nod.

She deftly pulls her stethoscope from around her neck and checks my heartbeat and my breathing. My heart’s beating. I’m breathing. I can’t help but make a sour look when shifting gives my sides a dull throb.

“How do you feel?”

“N-not goodd,” I say softly. “Myy head iss killing me. M’sides hurt.”

“I expect…” she says, putting her stethoscope back around her neck, and reaching in her pocket for a little light, “That you hit your head pretty hard when you fell. I need to take a look at that noggin of yours.”

When she motions, I dutifully turn towards her so she can look in my eyes, flashing a little light she pulls from her white doctor’s coat pocket. She makes an unimpressed little humming sound, then pockets the light.

“Watch my fingers. Keep your head still,” she tells me, and I try to concentrate as she moves her index finger back and forth and up and down in my line of sight. She’s moving too fast, I think, and I start to turn my head until she tuts at me.

Next, she pulls down my blanket, and tests my reflexes by tapping on my knees.

“Iss my arm broken?”

My voice keeps wavering, and my words sound sloppy, like I’ve had too much to drink, and I frown at myself. Nothing feels right.

“You have a fracture in your radius and ulna. You were somewhat alert for the x-ray, but you were fading fast, so we didn’t get a chance to cast you, only splint you until you’re stable enough to see the orthopedist.”

She looks over her notes again. “You’ve got a few cracked ribs, too, which you might have felt already, moving around.”

I absently touch my ribs, noting the constricting bandaging through my hospital gown. Oh yeah. She wasn’t wrong. I’d definitely felt that. Not great.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about any of that, however. You’re young and healthy and those bones are going to knit up just fine. I’m going to have someone bring you over to the orthopedist for your cast. It’ll be about 6-8 weeks in the cast. And same for your ribs. You’re going to have to take it easy, okay?”

I blink stupidly at her, then look between Leia and Ben. I need her to slow down.

Leia pats my foot and gives me a little smile. “Don’t worry, Rey. Ben and I are getting all this, right?”

Ben looks like he’s memorizing every word the doctor says, actually, so I relax a bit.

The doctor smiles slightly, then looks back at her medical chart.

“What concerns me, is your head. Your x-ray revealed a hairline skull fracture, and you’ve spent the better part of the past few hours slipping in and out of consciousness. Can you tell me what number I gave you earlier?”

“Ssev—” My mind goes fuzzy then blank, and I shake my head, but that only hurts. “Sseventy three?”

Ben makes a displeased sound next to me, and my stomach swoops unhappily realizing I’ve gotten it wrong.

The doctor makes an annotation to her notes. “Alright. Rey, I think we can safely add a concussion to your list of injuries. I see you’re getting tired, so I’ll keep this brief. First—you need to understand that a concussion is a brain injury. It’s going to take as much time to recover from as your broken arm. Second—you need to follow the recovery instructions carefully. This isn’t the sort of thing you can resolve with a nap and a couple of Tylenol, alright?”

Ben clears his throat, cutting in roughly, “When will we get the instructions? And when can we take her home?”

The doctor smiles wryly. “A nurse will come by in a bit with a nice stack of paperwork and to unhook the IV. And as for going home, we’re keeping Rey here tonight. We’ll see how things are going tomorrow.”

The doctor turns to me again. “Your evening’s going to be a little busy—we’re going to get that cast on your arm. After that, you need to rest. No TV, no reading. We’ll keep these lights in here dim. No wandering around, though I don’t imagine you’ll feel up to it, anyway.”

I frown slightly, but Ben’s there, gently rubbing my arm.

“Mrs. Organa-Solo? A word?”

Leia gets up from her chair, and she must sense my burst of panic, because she drops a kiss on the top of my head, murmuring that she’ll be right back.

+++

While Leia’s gone, Ben pulls the blinds to make sure the light is low in the room, and he fetches me a cup of water, and an extra blanket to tuck around me, and finally he runs out of things to fuss over. After the nurse comes by with the promised paperwork, which Ben collects very seriously, and the nurse disconnects my IV, he sinks into the chair next to my bed, pulling it as close as possible so he can hold my hand.

We don’t speak. I’m too foggy and tired, and there’s precious little to say at this point, anyway. Just knowing his heart beats not far from mine, that’s enough for now.

When Leia returns from her chat with my doctor, she gives me a carefully composed smile, and she takes a seat in the corner, giving Ben and me the space she must sense we need.

“What d-did the doctor ssay to you?”

“That you’re a damn mess but we can glue you back together,” she says lightly. Leia looks thoughtful for a moment, then shakes her head as if to shove some half-formed thought back in her mind.

The silence looms larger and larger, and it seems to physically press on me, pinning me back against the bed until I can’t take it anymore. “Leia, I…”

Leia cuts me off, and Ben looks up, surprised. He’d calmed, gentled, the longer he was with me, but now sharp apprehension ripples off him.

“Honey, the hospital called the Department of Child Welfare. Because it’s Sunday, they couldn’t get anyone out here today, but someone will come by tomorrow to talk to you. They’ve ordered the hospital to keep you until they decide what to do with you.”

I can feel myself tremble at the mere thought, and Ben’s hand tightens on mine, the fear as much mine as his. I think if I were in shape to run, I would. I think if I could hold a thought in my head, I might try to convince Ben to run with me.

“Sweetheart, I think you need to prepare yourself. They’re probably going to take you into custody tomorrow.”

“I… I don’t wanna be taken ‘way.” My voice cracks, and my tongue feels like it weighs 10lbs. “I wanna ggo home and go to sschool and be wwif Ben.”

“I know, Rey. I’d like that, too.” Leia rests her elbows on the tops of her legs and buries her face in her hands, and I can see the subtle quiver in her shoulders as she fights whatever emotion is rolling through her.

“I’m going to be honest with you. Right now, I’m at a loss for what to do. Ben and I can stay with you today until visitors’ hours are over, and I’ll be back in the morning. I’ll try to speak to whoever DCW sends and see what the options are. You won’t be alone. Do you hear me?”

I have no idea how she can keep that promise, but I smile at her anyway, tears welling unbidden in my eyes.

+++

For a few blissful seconds when I wake up, I don’t know where I am. The best seconds of my day.

As the truth washes over me how absolutely, thoroughly screwed I am, that I’m missing school, that I had a calculus test, and a paper due, that I still need to pay my water bill, except that doesn’t probably matter now, and Ben must be so afraid, and I’m so afraid, and I’ve got nothing to fight against the pain in my head, I stare at the hospital room ceiling, trying to take deep breaths and calm myself. The scared rabbit part of my brain wants to run run run, but I know I need to think as clearly as my concussed brain will let me today.

I grunt in pain as I roll over, my sides throbbing, my head aching and making me feel woozy again, and my damn arm now in a hard cast making it difficult for me to move.

I’m such an idiot. Ben told me more than once to stay off the goddamn roof. When he’s done being heartbroken, he’s going to be furious. I know how his mind works.

My hands are clumsy as I sit up and reach for the call button to summon a nurse to help me to the bathroom, since I’d found out the hard way that I’m not too steady on my feet right now, but I’m fumbling so badly that in a fit of frustration, I slap the water pitcher to the floor, spilling water everywhere with grim satisfaction, only to be observed by a wry-faced Leia, who comes in at that precise moment. She quietly drops the bag she’s carrying at the foot of my bed and rummages for a towel in one of the cubbies to sop up the mess.

“S-sorry,” I mutter, my tongue still stupidly thick. “Good morning.”

Under Leia’s gaze, I’m ashamed of myself, and I don’t meet her eyes.

“I suppose that depends on your point of view,” she replies, more reasonably than I want her to. “I talked to the nurse outside. She said I could help you this morning. And I brought you some fresh things to wear.”

Leia helps me out of the bed, and she supports me with one arm around my waist as I hobble unsteadily to the bathroom. I shower and wash my hair with her help so I can keep my cast dry, and then she rewinds me into the bandages supporting my broken ribs. She’s so nice to me, I find myself shaky and faltering emotionally, giving way to tears again.

“I don’t know why I’m like thiss,” I mumble, wiping at my face miserably. “I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me. I lied to you a thoussand times. I convinced Ben to lie to you. I betrayed your trusst.”

“You did, and I’m not happy about it. Any of it,” she tells me, waiting patiently while I shimmy awkwardly into the underwear, tee shirt, and sweatpants she bought for me, before helping me back to my bed. “I’m extremely angry with you, actually. But you don’t need anger right now.”

How is she so calm? I suppose I should be grateful for all that Solo family counseling.

“Your emotions might be rocky for a while, Rey,” she says, changing the subject after giving me an assessing look and frowning. “I read over the concussion information the nurse provided yesterday. It’s going to take longer than you think to feel right again, probably at least a month. The mood swings will be normal.”

I know I should care more. I know I should be gracious. But I blurt out the only thought I can muster.

“Where’ss Ben? Iss he coming to ssee me today?”

Leia sighs.

“He’s with Han today. He’ll be by later. Rey, honey, I’m going to need you to focus—look at me, Rey.”

I huff and pull away from the hand she has on my shoulder. It’s not the answer I want. I need Ben.

“The DCW caseworker is coming today. You need to rest for that, okay?”

I nod without looking at her. 

+++

I’ve had a lot of worst days of my life, I think.

The day a girl in middle school noticed I was wearing something she’d donated to the thrift store the month prior, launching an onslaught of teasing I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from.

The day I found out Maz was sick.

The day Maz died.

The day I found out at least half the school had seen naked pictures of me.

The day Ben and I fought and broke up.

Today, though. Today’s definitely the worst. My most recent worst day.

I curl against Ben’s chest in the chair next to my hospital bed, my ribs sore, my head worse, and my casted arm pinned between us. Leia wasn’t wrong when she’d called me a mess, I think bitterly.

“It’ll work out, Rey. You’ll see,” Ben whispers against the top of my head.

I wish I believed him. Ben had arrived after the DCW caseworker had left, after she had calmly and methodically ruined my life with a clipboard and a stack of paperwork. Leia hadn’t been allowed to stay in the room with me during the interview despite my pleas, and I’d been left to flounder, forced to answer one question after another until I felt stripped bare while Mrs. Kandia had dutifully recorded my answers.

_“I apologize for my lateness. DCW’s always a little busy this time of year, but I was able to have an emergency custody order filed on your behalf this morning,” she tells me with an apologetic smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll have to put you in a temporary facility until we can locate a spot for you in a home. At your age, it’ll likely be a group home. We see our group home program as a good way for you to learn how to be independent and learn responsibility.”_

_I stare at her, stupefied. She takes this for lack of comprehension and marks that down, too._

_“I’ve contacted your school and requested your records. They’ve been notified that you’re having a medical emergency and might not return, pending your permanent housing placement.”_

_“M-my housse?” I slur, hating the sound of my own voice and desperately wishing my caseworker would go away so I could rest. I’m tired and achy. Too many voices. Too many lights. Too many people asking me things that my brain just doesn’t want to deal with._

_“I stopped by. It’s currently not habitable due to storm damage. I can take you there tomorrow to gather some of your things. I’ll have to inquire as to what to do with the rest of the household goods.”_

_“N-no. I’ll fix it back. Why can’t I go home?”_

_She looks at me as if I’m the stupidest girl on the planet, and I feel such a rile of hate, I hardly know myself._

_“You’re underage, and you already nearly killed yourself. Do you think that’s wise?”_

_Bitch._

_“What’ss goin’ to h-happen to my housse? And m-my car?”_

_Mrs. Kandia sighs, already exasperated with me. “I have no idea. That’s not really DCW’s concern. Our concern is making sure you’re housed safely and given access to education and medical care. I can follow up, if you like?”_

_I nod. “I have doccummentss at home.”_

_“That’ll help. Well, then, Rey. I will see you tomorrow!”_

_How the hell does she sound so chipper? It’s so eerie the way none of this politeness or cheer reaches her eyes. It’s as if she’s just parroting a script. Well, I suppose I’m just another folder in her case pile. She doesn’t know me. I’m just a piece of furniture to be dragged one way or another._

_She snaps her folder closed and stands up, extending a hand to me. I take it as briefly as possible, then let go. As she leaves, I see Leia approach her from where she’s been waiting in the hallway, as if she’s been waiting to pounce on the woman this whole time_.

I’d pretended to sleep for hours after that, though I’m sure Leia wasn’t fooled. She rubbed my shoulder and let me be, taking the cue to dim all the lights in the room and lower the blinds, and keeping the nursing checks to a minimum.

It’s not until I hear a familiar voice murmuring at the door that I awkwardly sit up, wincing at the pain, and see Han whispering to Leia, and Ben frozen in the doorway, looking pale and shaky. His big frame looks like it’s vibrating with nervous energy and exhaustion as his hand lifts in a half-greeting. I guess his day away from me hasn’t been good for him.

His eyes hold mine with such distress, such pain and longing that I feel the rawness of his soul, and I barely hold back a sob as he gently wraps his arms around me, as if he’s afraid I’ll break. Too bad I’ve broken already.

Han and Leia leave us alone for a long while, and aside from nurses interrupting to bring me pain meds and check my blood pressure and heart rate, we’re left to our own devices, which is how I end up in cradled in Ben’s lap, wishing time would stop so we could hold on to this moment forever. When I look up at him, his eyes are so sunken and shadowed, and I can see the faint stubble dotting his upper lip, and I gather he didn’t bother shaving today.

“Nice threads,” he teases me, tugging at the sleeve of my tee shirt. I gather he knows Leia brought me clothes, and I try to smile for him, but it’s a fragile thing.

“I’m ssorry,” I whisper, and he just shakes his head before kissing my cheek. But I persevere, regardless. “I rruined everrythingg.”

“No, sweetheart. I swear it’s going to be fine.” He brushes his lips against mine sweetly, stroking his thumb along my cheek.

“You d-don’t know that.”

Each word weighs more than the last, and for a long time, Ben and I are silent. I can tell he’s hurt. I can tell from the way he breathes, and I’m sorry for it, but the girl who kisses and cossets him and soothes his worries isn’t here today.

When Han and Leia come back in, they join us, pulling up chairs of their own.

Han awkwardly pats my shoulder, as if he’s not sure where to touch me that won’t hurt, and he gives me a smile that’s just a shadow of his normal rogueish charm.

“Thought you’d be lookin’ a lot worse, kid, from what these two were sayin’,” he cracks awkwardly, earning probably the most lethal glares I’ve ever seen from his wife and son, while I just stare at him wide-eyed, not sure whether to laugh or cringe. Han, for the first time as far as I know, looks mortified and sits down in a hurry.

There’s an energy humming between him and Leia as they look at each other, holding silent conversations, reading each other with practiced ease before turning back to Ben and me.

“Benny, did you tell her?” Han asks, leaning forward, looking at his son intently.

“No. I thought it should come from all of us.”

Han nods, and he glances at Leia. After a moment, he clears his throat.

“Rey, kiddo, we know you’re in a tight spot here. But we aren’t giving up on you, alright? Ben and I went to see a lawyer while Leia was here with you today.”

Leia cuts in, reaching to take my hand and give it a brief squeeze before letting go.

“Sweetheart, Han and I would like to file for legal guardianship. I don’t know how long it takes, especially with the holidays coming up, or even if the courts would go for it since we’re not your biological family, but if you want… we’ll try.”

I’m frozen in Ben’s arms, and I feel him stroke my arm soothingly. I know he can feel my astonishment, and in turn, I can feel his eager pulse of hope, that desperate clinging to the chance that he and his parents might have a solution. Ben’s not one to grasp freely at optimism, so he must be convinced this could work, I think. Or he’s just desperate enough to fling himself at any idea at all.

I lick my lips, having suddenly gone dry. Which, after all my tears, is to be expected. “A-are you surre?”

Han shakes his head. “I’m a little scared of what the grocery bill’s gonna look like with two teenagers in the house, but I think we can handle it.”

Leia gives Han a sharp glance. “We can’t guarantee anything, Rey. All we can do is file the paperwork and let the courts decide, but the lawyer says it’s worth a shot.”

“And don’t think this means we haven’t got a lot to discuss when that head of yours is feelin’ a little better,” Han says with a tired smile. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we would like to help you. If that’s what you want, kid.”

My smile is tremulous, but I nod and reach a hand toward Han and Leia, who both take it in kind. “I… yess, please. I don’t know what to ssay. Thank y-you.”

Leia’s eyes fill with tears, and she squeezes my hand firmly. I can feel a bloom of happiness behind me from where Ben holds me close. It’s like his heart beats just a little faster. I don’t have to know his face has brightened with his wide, crooked grin.

Han and Leia leave Ben and me alone, I guess to talk to talk about the new plan, but given my headache and my inability to concentrate on anything at all, I mostly just lay in bed while Ben sits next to me, holding my hand, and resting his head next to mine on the pillow.

“It’s all going to work out, Rey. You’ll see.”

+++

Mrs. Kandia sighs with annoyance as I grab her arm to keep from stumbling over the uneven ground outside my trailer. I’m still woozy and after two days in bed or being rolled around in a wheelchair, I feel like a baby deer learning to walk again, I’m so uncoordinated.

“We’re on a tight timeline here, Rey. I’d appreciate it if you packed quickly.”

I’m supposed to walk into my home, fill one bag with clothes and personal effects, and consider myself set up for my new life. Go fuck yourself, Mrs. Kandia.

“Yess, ma’am,” I murmur. I unlock the door and let myself in, and she steps inside, blandly assessing my trailer. She said she’d seen it before, and that it was uninhabitable. And perhaps it is after the water and wind damage. There is plywood over the broken window now, and I wonder if that was Han or Ben’s work. The inside smells wet and mildewy already, and I make my way carefully down the hallway, using the wall to balance myself.

Leia had arrived early this morning at the hospital to bring me another change of clothes and a new tote bag. She’d helped me change and fixed my hair into a tidy braid, keeping me company until Mrs. Kandia arrived. Mrs. Kandia had barely reacted when Leia told her she was filing guardianship paperwork for me, and just politely shook her hand, mildly saying she’d be in touch, even as she refused Leia’s contact information.

Mrs. Kandia had seemed put out when I reminded her that I needed to go home to pack my things, having assumed a change of sweatpants was all a girl needed for her new, unwanted life. But I’d insisted, and Leia was there, and I got what I already sensed is a rare win.

 _“You call me the first chance you get, okay, sweetheart?”_ Leia whispered to me, kissing my cheek and giving me a long hug. _“We’ll come see you the minute it’s possible. Just hold tight, okay?”_

I try to choose sensibly among my things. It’s November, so I take my two pairs of jeans and a few long-sleeved shirts and sweatshirts. I take some tee shirts knowing I’m going to be stuck in this damn cast for a while, and that’s going to be a pain to deal with. I take a framed photo of Maz and me and tuck it into the bag, along with a framed picture of Ben and me in Myrtle Beach, so delighted with each other in those hours after he’d proposed. My blue butterfly ring is where I left it, in the little box on my nightstand, and I put the box in my bag, too.

I wipe at my eyes with my good hand, hitching my breath, trying not to give way to the roil of anger and frustration.

Leia said she’d come by here with Ben and pack up the rest of my things for me, since there was no way to know when or how I’d ever get back here again. I’ve already given Ben the key to my car, too.

“Rey, five minutes!” Mrs. Kandia calls from the living room, clearly bored from standing there.

I feel a surge of panic, and I look around the room with the desperation of a cornered animal. I use these last moments to dig through my mother’s box at the back of my closet, and I pull out my father’s dog tags and the one photo I have of my mother holding me. I put them in the box with the blue butterfly ring, and before that witch in the blue blazer can tell me to hurry up again, I grab my folder of documents.

I see my pile of schoolbooks and I feel a pang of distress at abandoning them because I know I can’t carry them out, and I’ll be damned if I ask Mrs. Kandia for help. It’s not like I can read them right now, anyway. I’m being withdrawn from school, anyway, since I won’t be able to complete the term in my condition.

The Jakku Youth Services Residential Complex is a series of grey buildings, three stories high, with some basketball courts in the middle and a worn walking path along the perimeter of the complex fence. As we pass through the gates, I turn to Mrs. Kandia.

“Lookss like a prisson.” Just saying the word, my heart beats faster, thrumming until the blood rushes in my ears.

“Well, some of the residents here are waiting to go on trial. If convicted, they’ll go to a juvenile detention center,” she says lightly. “They aren’t free to roam, so you don’t need to worry about that. You’ll be in the infirmary, anyway, for the next month or so, and hopefully by then I’ll have scrounged up a place for you in a group home.”

Gee. Thanks.

“Cann I leeaf if I want?”

Just because she says it’s not a prison, it doesn’t mean it’s not a prison, I think darkly.

“With permission, provided it’s for a good reason and under adult supervision. That’s up to the staff. They’ll orient you to the rules. If there are any serious problems, the staff knows to contact me. I’ll check in with you next week to see how you’re settling in.”

She doesn’t even glance my way as she tells me this, parking the car, then waiting for me to struggle out of the passenger seat. With a sigh, she grabs my tote bag for me, as if she’s making a grand sacrifice, and lets me hold on to her arm as we make our way in the building.

Mrs. Kandia introduces me to the facility’s intake coordinator, and after that, she considers her work done and leaves me there without so much as a wave goodbye.

I follow the coordinator, and it’s a blur of white hallways and too-bright lights, and I find my energy flagging. People talk directions and rules at me, and I sign clumsily into a log before following them to my room, where they search my bag for contraband, hand me the daily schedule, and leave me sitting on my bunk.

Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, y’all. We are on this angst train for a little while.
> 
> And this might be a personal axe for me to grind, but concussions are a big deal. This is something I’ve seen happen to many friends and associates (contact sports are ROUGH). 
> 
> What Rey’s going through is easily going to take her ~6 weeks to recover from the *major* symptoms, and she’s not off to a great start. Slurred speech, wild emotions, loss of balance and fine motor function, nausea, and pain are just some of the fun from a bonk (technical term) on the head. I’ve seen concussions happen after hits to the head that no one even really thought twice about because the impact seemed so minor at the time. 
> 
> The previously mentioned symptoms—I have seen them all in action more than I care to say, as well as the long-term impact of multiple concussions. Protect your brains. They’re not replaceable.
> 
>   
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	43. holiday traffic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. November 1998. Thanksgiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Mr. Solo? Can you share your answer to #5 or not?”

Mr. Tarkin’s voice cuts sharp through my fog, and I jerk upright from where I’d been half-slumped over my desk. I have barely slept since Sunday, and a stupor of nightmares doesn’t count.

“Um. No, I’m sorry, Mr. Tarkin. I didn’t get that far.”

If far meant filling out my name on the top of the paper, that’s how far I got for today’s practice set.

“Right. Of course, you didn’t, Mr. Solo. You’ve only been here for 45 minutes. How could you have been expected to do any work?”

The class titters, and I see Hux turn his head to glance back at me with some curiosity in his eyes. I sigh and apologize again to Mr. Tarkin. I don’t know what I should do—tell him about Rey, or… I suppose it’s not my place. It’s not like he’ll care, anyway, as long as he gets the math text back.

The class period mercifully ends, and I drag myself out into the hallway. I just have to get through Health, and my dad will pick me up, and… that’s it, I suppose. I keep checking my cell phone, but Rey hasn’t called. I guess she might not have had a chance, and I know with her head hurting her so badly, she wouldn’t be able to talk long, anyway.

“Ben!”

Rose Tico barrels through the hallway with Poe trailing behind her. She looks so distinctly relieved to see me, I can’t help but give her a brief, albeit, small smile. Poe claps my arm in his familiar way, but I can see he’s studying my face carefully, reading me far more easily than I’d anticipated.

“What’s wrong, squatch?”

Rose looks up at him, brow furrowing, then back at my face. “Have you heard from Rey? She never called on Sunday like she said she would, and I haven’t seen her this week. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen you, until now, either. Were you really going to dip out on Thanksgiving break without talking to anyone?”

Poe gives her a look that’s just a hair short of exasperated. “Well, Solo? You seen Rey, or what? She’s not picking up her phone when we call. Finn can’t reach her, either.”

The warning bell rings, and I frown, shifting my backpack on my shoulders. “Um. Find me after school, okay?”

+++

Finn finds me first. His face is normally so open and friendly, with an easy joy and optimism, that the concerned frown is jarring.

“Solo,” he starts. “Is it true? Has Rey withdrawn from school? Why’d she do something like that?”

“Where’d you hear that?” There’s no reason anyone should know anything at this point, and I know if there’s already this much information, the school gossip mill will be churning and grinding in no time.

“English class—Rey was in my project group. Mrs. D’acy pulled us aside to say that she’d give us extra time to do Rey’s part of the project, because she wouldn’t be coming back to school this semester. She wouldn’t say why. I guess she can’t… but Ben, you know, right?”

“Rey’s not coming to school anymore?” Poe sounds mystified, having overhead Finn on his approach, Rose bustling past him to slip under Finn’s arm comfortably.

I shake my head.

“Um, so about Rey…”

+++

Dad pats my back lightly when I slide into the passenger seat of his Falcon. “Hey, kid. Get all caught up in time for your long weekend?”

I can see the creased worry in his forehead as he looks at me. That’s all my parents do now. Frown with worry and look at me. Well, sometimes Mom glares at me and turns away with tears in her eyes.

_“But how? How did we not notice? I’m the worst fucking friend,” Rose wailed. “Are we going to be able to see her? Where is she?”_

_Poe just stood there, stunned, his dark, expressive eyes watery. “Chicken legs was on her own? This whole time? Is she going to be okay?”_

_Finn looked grimly determined, his jaw tightening with resolve. “How can we help her, Solo? What can we do for her?”_

_Each one of them looks gutted and guilty around the edges. I’d like to tell them it’s not their fault they never noticed. I hadn’t noticed. Except, I had noticed. I have to admit that to myself now. That’s the problem. And I suppose they always knew something was weird, too. But we’d all ignored it. As long as Rey was smiling and kept turning up to school on time, it was convenient not to ask questions._

_“I don’t know if she’ll be okay,” I admit. “I don’t know what’ll happen.”_

“Yeah, I guess. Any word from Rey? Did mom see her off?”

“Nothing from Rey yet. She’s probably getting settled at the facility. And yeah, your mom saw her. Says that case worker is a cold one. She doesn’t anticipate a whole lot of help or understanding from that quarter.” Dad clenches his jaw, steering the car out of the school parking lot. “Rey’s a tough cookie. Hopefully, the lawyer can get things cleared up for us, and we can bring her home soon.”

Home.

If Rey can live with us, I’ll make sure she’s never alone and afraid ever again. Maybe I’ll be able to sleep at night.

“Dad… I… I don’t know if you and Mom know how much it means to me that you’re helping me—helping Rey—even though we’ve been lying to you. Rey… I love her so much. I just wanted to protect her. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Dad exhales a tired sigh, and I feel the guilty ache in my stomach. I’m probably the cause of at least half the gray hair on his head.

“We know, kid. We know how you feel about her, and how she feels about you. We’re trying to do the right thing here, but to be honest, we barely know what that is. She deserves our help, we know that much. But as for the rest…”

He lifts his shoulders, as world-weary as I’ve ever seen him.

“Am I grounded?”

“Grounded? What the hell would that teach you at this point? You got any other orphans you’re covering for?”

Dad’s tone is so reasonable, I give him a suspicious look. Has Mom been coaching him? Has he been reading parenting books again? A year ago, this man would have been shouting.

“You told me you’d drive me today… I thought it was because you were going to take my keys again.”

“No, it’s because I didn’t want you doing anything stupid, like trying to go see Rey and upsetting her when she’s going to be having a hard time. Where that girl’s concerned, you’ve got an impulsive streak a mile wide, Ben.”

Okay, there’s the dad I know. I huff an annoyed breath. Just because it’s true, it doesn’t mean I like to hear about it.

“So you and mom are mad at me and…?”

“…and we’re mad at you. And we’re going to talk about it. And if we need to, we’ll see the counselor again. But I don’t think grounding you is going to do anything. How happy are you right now, Ben?”

I snort and make a frustrated movement with my hands.

“Thrilled, Dad. My girlfriend is injured and terrified, she’s losing her home, and if our petition gets denied by the court, she’s going to get sent god-knows-where to a group home.”

“Exactly. What is it that your mother and I could do to teach you a lesson?”

I pull at the sleeve of my coat, fidgeting. “I think I already learned the lesson. If I’d told you the truth, this could have been prevented. At least the part where Rey could have died.”

“That’s possible.” Dad steers the Falcon into the driveway and puts a hand on my arm. The look on his face is grim and sad. “The truth is, kid, we trusted you. But you didn’t trust us. And your mother and I don’t know what to do about that.”

+++

“Ben?”

I nearly drop the phone I’m so excited to hear her voice, as soft and sweetly uncertain as it sounds.

“Rey!” I realize I’m shouting, and I know that can’t be good for her, so I lower my voice immediately. “Sorry. Rey, how are you? Are you alright?”

“Mmhmm. I’m ssorry I didn’t call yessterdaay. Didn’t feel very well and I sslept the whole dayy. How’re you? How wass school?”

Oh my god. She’s killing me. “Rey, fuck school. It was fine. I only want to hear about you, sweetheart,” I say, exasperated. She’s so good at deflecting attention, and I’ll be damned if she’s going to do it now.

There’s a brief silence on the other end, and I feel like my stomach is in freefall. Okay. Maybe I need to check my frustration.

“I’m ssorry. I dunno what to ssay. They’re being nice to mme. I have a room to mysself. I can’t watch TV or read, and the lights are too bright, so I stay in my room and rest,” she says quietly, her tone flat.

“How’s your head feeling?” I ask, trying to be gentler. “Are you able to eat?”

At least half of her meals had ended up in reverse in the hospital, from what I had witnessed. I didn’t know how much of that was from her nerves or the concussion, frankly.

“Hurtss. Still feel kind of woozy, so I’m not eatin’ much. Eassier than barfing all the tiime. I wannt to—”

“Do you think you can come for Thanksgiving tomorrow? Are you allowed to leave?” I interrupt her eagerly. She doesn’t need to eat turkey with strangers. She can come here, where I can keep her wrapped up in cozy blankets and bring her a plate of food and sit with her all day.

“It’ss not prisson,” she mutters, more to herself than to me, I think. “I’m sstill not sso good, Ben. I don’t know iff I would be funn for yyou.”

“I need to see you. I need to know you’re okay,” I tell her.

“Ben, mmy head hurtss, and I can’t even w-walk in a sstraight line.” Her voice sounds plaintive, with all the joy of a brick.

That leaden ball of guilt seems to weigh heavier every time she speaks. I want her so badly, and she _can’t_.

“Then I’ll come see you. That’s allowed, isn’t it?”

“They ssay sso,” she says. “B-ben, mmy headache iss getting badd. I wannt to give you the phone number and addrress. You can call for vissitor hourss, okay?”

I fumble for a pen and accidentally tear the paper in my notepad in my haste. I take down the numbers as she stumbles over them slowly, so unlike her usual self. I have a flash to the concussion test, and I absently hope she’s not trying to do this from memory, and I hate myself for that thought. She can’t _help_ it, I remind myself. She’s _hurt_.

“I’m going to try to come see you as soon as I can tomorrow, Rey. And if you feel like it, if they’ll let us, we’ll take you home for dinner, okay? Just… just rest, sweetheart, so we can do that. I’ll tell Mom and Dad you called. I know Charlie really wants to see you, and Rose and everyone’s been asking for you. Rey, I—”

“Ben, pleasse,” she whispers forlornly, “I can’t right n-now. Hurtss.”

“Right. I’m sorry. I just… I miss you. I need to kiss you so badly.” I do. I really do. I keep thinking of how her hazel eyes shine green and gold and brown and her broad smile and dimples.

She makes a sad little noise on the other end of the phone. “I miss you sso much.”

We say our goodbyes and I hang up, staring at the phone in its cradle for a long moment, brushing my fingers over the torn scrap of paper with her information now written on it.

+++

Mom quietly wraps the trinkets from Rey’s shelves in bubble wrap before placing them in the big plastic tubs she’d brought for us to pack. She hasn’t said much to me this morning after I gave her Rey’s information from the phone call, then listened in as she contacted the residential facility to get the details about visiting hours.

She’s been decidedly calm, as if this mood is a choice she makes every minute she is around me. I don’t think I want to know the alternative.

As soon as the ambulance had loaded Rey, I’d jumped in my Wagoneer and dialed home on my cell phone, and at the sound of Mom’s voice, I’d exhaled a broken sob, earning an immediate gasp of alarm from her.

_“Benny, what’s the matter? Are you at Rey’s? Did something happen?”_

_“Mom, I need your help…”_

I don’t know if our relationship will ever be the same after that phone call.

_“Wait, what are you saying, Ben?” The utter confusion and dismay crack through my mother’s voice, making it sound far less certain than the usual distinction of one Colonel Organa-Solo._

_“I don’t have time for this, Mom. Rey’s going to the hospital, and I’m pretty sure they’re going to call DCW on her.”_

_“Where’s her aunt? Is she not… is she not well enough to take care of her? Did she get hurt in the storm?”_

_Who is this hesitant woman on the phone? Every bread crumb Rey has left since February, every odd bit of string, Mom seems to be collecting them all, studying them, and whether she wants to see it or not, there’s a growing horror of comprehension. But I need to get her there faster. So I blurt it out._

_“Rey doesn’t have an aunt. Well, she had an aunt. But not anymore.”_

_“Ben, I’m not… did she die in the storm? What… Ben!?”_

_“Maz is dead, okay? She’s been dead for years.”_

_There’s a lengthy silence on the other end of the phone._

_“Mom, you there?”_

_I can practically hear the explosion in her mind._

_“Ben, I swear to god, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying…”_

_“I am. Mom… please, come help. Rey fell off the roof, and she’s unconscious, and I’m really scared.”_

_“Fuck. Get to the hospital now, Ben. I’ll meet you there.”_

I pull out the cardboard box of Rey’s mother’s things from the back of her closet.

“This is important,” I tell Mom. “We can’t let anything happen to this box. It’s all she has of her mom.”

Mom carefully seals the box with packing tape. The truth is, it’s not going to take us long to pack up Rey’s belongings. She doesn’t have much. Her clothes all fit in one plastic bin. Her books and trinkets fill another. I go into the living room, stepping carefully around the shards of broken glass from the shattered window, and I collect the framed photos from the mantel and the wall, and I tug the brown and orange afghan Maz crocheted for Rey from the back of the couch.

Before we leave, I go back into Maz’s room, which is already tidy and pristine. I poke around and find a box of pictures and even a pair of thick-glassed spectacles, which I add to Rey’s stuff. By the time we leave, Rey’s whole life is packed into three plastic bins. It seems so small and forlorn.

Mom does a sweep of the kitchen and bathroom, clearing out anything that might spoil. When she comes out of the bathroom holding up some of the toiletries I typically use, I shrug nonchalantly. “Well, sometimes it’s convenient to…”

“That’s enough, Ben,” she mutters, chucking the toiletries into a garbage bag with a choppy, frustrated movement. “I get it. You had this whole secret life. You couldn’t trust me or your father, for whatever reason. You knew we loved you. You knew we loved Rey. And that wasn’t enough for you.”

“Mom, no…” I reach out for her shoulder, but she jerks away. I feel stung. Dismissed. I decide to try again. “It wasn’t about you and Dad. We knew you’d have to report. It’s… it’s the system we didn’t trust. Well, Rey didn’t trust it. Maz told her not to. She begged me not to tell, Mom. I swear, that was the first thing I wanted to do when—”

“How long, Benny?” Her voice is sharp. Like steel. “How long have you known about Rey? From the beginning? No… I think not. There’s a point when you stopped fretting about her home life so much. Sometime this summer, then, I guess.”

I frown slightly, stacking the plastic bins before we head out to the Wagoneer. “July. Her birthday. I caught her by surprise, and she had no choice. She was never going to tell me, either, if that makes you feel any better.”

The answer I get starts with a loud, scornful snort.

“Nope. That scared little girl has been hiding in plain sight for so long, she doesn’t know any other way to be, I imagine. You, Ben, you weren’t raised like that. You have parents who’ve always fought for you.”

“Oh, always?” I snap at her, setting the bins down roughly in the back of the Wagoneer.

Mom’s head whips back a little, and she jabs a finger in my chest, practically hissing as she speaks, and I back away from her. She’s tiny, but she knows how to project her presence so that it feels like she’s seven feet tall.

“Always, Ben. Even when you didn’t know it. We are _not_ rehashing that again now. I thought we were beyond all that.”

I stomp back to the trailer to get the last bin and box, glad to put twenty feet between my mother and me. But of course, she’s waiting. Leia Organa-Solo doesn’t back down.

I set the boxes down and slam the hatch shut, and I hand Mom Rey’s car key. Charlie’s agreed to garage her car until… well, until.

“I’m telling you, Mom. It wasn’t about you and Dad. It was about Rey, okay? I was so afraid I’d lose her that I was willing to do whatever she said. She’s been terrified of being discovered from the moment Maz got sick. I told her I’d only keep her secret as long as she seemed to be doing okay. I mean… I didn’t think she’d fall off the goddamn roof after I told her to stay off when I wasn’t around to spot her, but then again, she’s so stubborn, so why would she listen to me?” I huff, rambling, and I realize my hands are shaking I’m so agitated.

“It’s a hell of a lie, Ben,” Mom says angrily. “A dangerous lie, too. We could have controlled everything from the start, and now it’s very nearly out of my hands to help her. Petitioning after the fact, after DCW has already filed and claimed custody? After she’s already been severely injured? We’ve barely got a fucking leg to stand on.”

Fuck.

I stand there with my hand on the door handle of the Wagoneer, heart pounding.

“I fucked up, okay? But not because I don’t love you and Dad.” I wrench the door open, and I glare at her. “See you at Charlie’s.”

Mom glares back. But I see a flicker of something that’s better than her grief and hurt. I see her glittering frustration. The flare of her temper.

Okay.

I can live with her being mad at me for being a dumbass.

Suddenly, with a flare of grim humor, I understand my dad a lot better.

+++

“Don’t be upset if she doesn’t feel up to coming with us today,” Mom warns. “No matter what happens, you need to be calm. Don’t pressure her, and don’t upset her.”

I sigh, holding the door open for Mom at the Jakku Youth Services facility. All day, she’s been nagging, acting like I’m some out-of-control child who can’t handle his emotions.

“I’m not going to make a scene or have a tantrum,” I mutter, trying to keep myself from sounding hostile. “I know Rey doesn’t need that.”

Mom signs us in as visitors, and we go to the lounge to wait for Rey. It’s a bright space, filled with couches and low tables. There are half-finished jigsaw puzzles on the tables and fake plants in colorful pots in a failed effort to make it look homey. I hope Rey’s room is cozy, at least. I hope she has a soft bed and a ridiculous number of pillows.

There are other people here, mostly teenagers, a couple of younger-looking kids, maybe middle schoolers, with visitors, sitting quietly, picking at offered treats, slices of pie. Others are exuberant with their visitors, laughing loudly, giddy to have someone paying attention to them. Mom and I sit awkwardly, and I shift the wrapped bundle I’m holding, and we keep glancing again at the doorway leading to the private area.

My feet tap and my knees bounce, I’m so nervous. It’s been three days, and it feels like a lifetime. The more I think about our last phone call, the worse I feel. I’d been loud, talked too fast, cut her off…

I don’t know if I can be what she needs. I’m too much, too wanting, too tumultuous and aggressive, and I couldn’t even keep her safe in the first place because I’m constantly being told to fight my instincts by the people who are supposed to be caring for me. I have an appointment with Dr. Santekka on Monday, and I feel like it’s not going to go so well for the old man.

“H-hey!” Rey’s voice calls out, and I realize I’d been so distracted by my own melancholy that I’d been staring at my feet. Rey looks pale and there are circles under her eyes, but other than that, she seems well. She’s wearing her ripped jeans and a baggy tee shirt. I’m guessing the cast doesn’t fit so well inside the sleeves of her long-sleeved shirts.

I see a tall, white-haired woman smile kindly at Rey, and seeing my mom already three quarters of the way there to greet her, the woman lets go of her elbow. “Buzz when you’re ready to come back, alright?”

Rey nods up at her briefly before turning a pleased smile towards my mother, who’s already sliding an arm around Rey’s waist in greeting, mindful of the cast and her ribs.

“It’s so good to see you. How are you?”

“m’okay,” she says lightly, letting Mom lead her back to the couch.

Her color is better than when I saw her in the hospital, but she still looks drawn and tired. I eagerly stand up to wrap my arms around her as Mom stands back, and I see she’s scanning Rey from head to toe, as if she can magically turn on X-Ray vision and make her own analysis of Rey’s physical and mental health.

No matter. I’m gentle with Rey, afraid to hug her too tightly, so I just stroke her back, feeling the ridge of her delicate spine through her shirt, and I carefully kiss her temple.

“I’ve missed holding you,” I whisper. I pull back and smile down at her, brushing my thumb over her soft cheek. Her eyes shimmer, and she ducks her head, taking my hand and sitting down on the sofa slowly.

“Thankss for coming to ssee me,” she says, squeezing my hand and looking back at Leia. “Iss Han busy cooking the turkey?”

“Yep, a nice big one. Charlie’s coming, and some other friends, and some of my soldiers. Han’s been busy all day. We were hoping you might come home with us and eat some dinner? I don’t think you’re getting enough to eat, miss.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Mom’s voice so gentle. I can tell she doesn’t like what she’s seeing in Rey’s eyes.

“Dad’s making that casserole he told you about. With all the cheese,” I say, giving her an encouraging smile.

Rey gives a little shake of her head, and she looks beleaguered by our invitation. “C-could I come tomorrow when there’s lesss people? The noisse iss too much.”

I look over Rey’s head at Mom, and she nods. “Of course, you can. I hope you don’t mind us being hopeful for today. We’re just eager for your company.”

“I am, too. I jus’… I’m sstill kinda foggy and my head hurtss.”

“We’ll take it easy tomorrow. I promise,” I tell her, caressing her fingers with mine. “We can stay on the couch and snuggle. I’ll bring you snacks.”

“I don’t wanna be in th’ way,” she says softly. “If you’ve got homework or…”

Mom squeezes Rey’s knee. “You’re not in the way, sweetheart. You’re going to live with us if the court grants guardianship, so it’s your house, too, alright?”

Rey frowns, her eyes going flat and angry. “I’ve got a housse.”

Mom seems caught flat-footed by Rey’s odd shift in mood, so I cut in quickly, “Hey, who was that lady who brought you down here? She seemed friendly.”

“Oh—um, that’s W-winter. She’s the day nursse in the infirmary. Keepss an eye on me. All the hallwayss here look the ssame, and I kept getting losst. She kept finding me, sso now she takess me where I need to go. Eassier than bein’ losst.”

Fucking hell. My hand tightens on hers.

“Is your room okay? Do you need anything?” Mom asks, and I can see the lines of concern between her eyebrows.

“It’ss fine. It’ss clean and quiet, and they gave me extra pillows when I assked.”

I can’t help but smile at that. There’s a flicker of my Rey, the bright, quick-witted girl with too much energy who can’t sleep unless she’s flanked by a half dozen pillows. It’s good to know she’s still in there.

“Well, we did bring something for you.” I let go of Rey’s hand to reach for the wrapped bundle I’d left on the other side of me. “Mom and I packed up some of your stuff yesterday, and we thought you’d want this.”

I place the parcel on her lap, and she doesn’t hesitate to fumble and tear away the paper, revealing the faded afghan from her living room couch. Her fingers curl into the familiar orange and brown squares, and she looks at me as if she’d been starving for this all along.

“My blanket,” she says with pleasure, and I see the nearly imperceptible shift of her shoulders as they relax. She needs these talismans to feel like herself. I know that’s why she never wanted to leave her trailer. It was _her_ place. With _her_ memories.

After a moment, she looks back to my mom, hesitant, chewing on the inside of her cheek nervously the way she does. When she speaks again, her voice is soft. “Maz made thiss for me when I wass a little girl. I picked these colorss, because I like when the leavess turn.”

“It’s a beautiful blanket,” Mom assures her. “Ben said you needed it, so we took it home and gave it a wash. It got a little wet from the rain that came through the broken window.”

Rey clutches the blanket tighter, and I slip an around her waist to draw her closer to me, worried at the odd tremble I feel in her. She’s never been this emotionally frail, and it’s terrifying.

“Charlie and Dad put some plywood over the window for now. I’m going to clean up the broken glass this weekend,” I tell her, kissing the side of her head.

“Teedo’ss gonna take my trailer,” she frets, her brow furrowing the way it does when she’s trying to figure out a particularly difficult calculus problem. It’s such an odd thing seeing her trying to hard to think clearly, and from the panic in her eyes, she’s not coming up with the usual lightning array of thoughts and possibilities. “What’m I gonna do? How much doess a window cosst?”

“Rey. _Rey_ ,” Mom says firmly, trying to get her to focus. “Don’t worry about this right now. I’m going to call your caseworker tomorrow, and I’m going to have a conversation with her.”

Rey nods, then blurts out, abruptly, “I’m ssorry, but I don’t feel well… can you assk the dessk to buzz forr Winter?”

Mom nods, and she makes her way to the desk. I take my chance, and not caring if anyone sees, I dip my lips to hers for a soft kiss, and when I pull away, she’s flushed and teary-eyed, and I think I’ve made a major miscalculation. _Read the fucking room, Ben Solo_ , I tell myself. _How about not traumatizing your girlfriend who has a goddamn brain injury?_

“Hey… hey, I’m sorry. We don’t have to…”

“I’m ssorry. It’ss my ffault,” she whispers. “My brain feelss sscrambled, and I can’t think sstraight. It’ss too much, Ben.”

But after that, she kisses me needily, slipping her one good arm around my neck, until Mom returns and politely clears her throat.

I duck my head, face reddening, and I awkwardly rub my hand through my hair.

“S-sorry, Leia.” Rey pulls away from me, turning red. But Mom just smiles, and when Winter arrives to retrieve Rey, I kiss her cheek and whisper goodbye. Mom gathers up the checkered afghan and takes Rey back to the tall, slim woman, and I watch with interest as Mom smiles down at Rey’s face, then up at the nurse, and I see her hand over her contact card, along with the blanket. And Rey.

As the nurse leads her through the doorway, Rey glances over her shoulder back at me, and she gives me a fragile smile.

I wonder how many times this girl is going to break my heart.

At home, when Mom pulls into the driveway and I clamber out, my feet leaden, the front door swings open, and Charlie ambles out, a broad grin on his face. His beard is as majestic as ever, and I can see he’s put some effort into dressing for the holiday, wearing a natty paisley button-down shirt. He looks like a dressed-up grizzly bear.

“Where’s my little lady?” he calls out, eyes twinkling with anticipation. His footsteps falter when he sees it’s just Mom and me, and his smile fades with disappointment.

“You’re stuck with us, I’m afraid,” Mom tells him, patting his arm.

“She didn’t feel up to a big holiday dinner with lots of people around,” I tell him as we head back into the house.

Mom heads into the kitchen to check on Dad and the turkey. We’ve had a few things catered—the pies, some of the side dishes, and the rolls. The rest, Dad’s been working on with some help from Mom in the hors d'oeuvres department.

I have no idea how I’m going to get through the day, making small talk with Dad’s veterans’ club friends, or the motley assortment of single soldiers Mom invited so they wouldn’t have to be alone. I know every one of them is going to ask me where I’m going to college next year and what I want to study and the cheekier ones will ask if I’ve got a girlfriend. Fuck all these people in advance, I think sourly.

As soon as we’re in the foyer, Charlie startles me by wrapping me in a big hug. There aren’t that many people who make me feel small in their arms, but Charlie manages. His voice is gruffly compassionate when he speaks.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this. Rey’s such a good little gal.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to pretend like everything’s okay today,” I admit to him. The anger inside me is so tangled with my grief, I don’t know how I’m supposed to make small talk with these strangers. I’d begged mom to cancel, but this whole event had been set in motion too long ago.

Charlie keeps an arm around my shoulders as we head into the living room.

“Well, I don’t think you need to pretend anything. You can be polite, though, can’t ya?”

I sullenly nod my head.

“That’s all ya need to be. You can set yourself down by me, and you won’t have to pretend a thing. In fact, when we get a chance, I want you tell me all about it. I want to know how it is that Han Solo’s son ended up loving my wife’s friend’s granddaughter and keeping such a big secret.”

He ruffles my hair and gives me a kind smile. I try to smile back, and he winks at me.

“First, let’s go see how many deviled eggs I can eat…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another week of Angst-fest 2020. I promise to give you something fun next time around. Any Christmas wishes for our sweet baby lovebirds?
> 
> I wanted Rey to have at least one nice person in the residential facility, and the first person I thought of was Leia’s companion and confidante from the EU—Winter.
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	44. bridges ice before roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. December 1998. Visitors. Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Rey, you have a gentleman caller,” Winter tells me with a smile after rapping her knuckles lightly on my door. I’ve been napping, and I move slowly to the edge of my bed, swinging my feet over and sitting up carefully. My ribs still smart, but not as bad as before. It’s been about a month since “the event” as I call it in my mind.

“Which one?”

She laughs and steps inside, kneeling to help me with my shoes. I can tug them on pretty well, but two hands are needed to tie shoelaces, and Winter’s the only one who takes the time to help.

“The tall one.”

I smile slightly at that. They’re all tall--Han, Ben, and Charlie.

Han comes at least once a week during the day, bringing plastic containers of his cooking—chicken and rice casserole, shrimp and pineapple stir fry, spaghetti--hoping to coax me into eating something. I’m not so woozy as I was, but my appetite hasn’t come back, either. Han tries to look like he’s comfortable visiting me here at the facility, giving his trademark rogueish smile as he tries to tease a smile or a laugh out of me, but I can see him looking warily at the other kids in there and their visitors and the empty cheer of the holiday decorations plastered on the walls.

I can tell he doesn’t know how to be around me like this, in this place, but I appreciate that he’s trying. He tells me about cooking shows and what he’s trying to fix on the Falcon and sometimes we quietly work on jigsaw puzzles together, and he asks me about Maz. What she was like. How long I lived with her. If I know of any other family. If her guardianship of me was ever even formal. I guess the Solos’ lawyer is trying to find records on me, and there just aren’t any, save for my birth records from the Fort Windu hospital.

When I tentatively asked about the cost of the lawyer, Han had waved his hand, casually dismissing the notion.

_“Don’t think about that, kiddo. For once, let the adults do the worrying, okay?”_

_“Thiss issn’t what I wanted… I mean, I want to live with you. I’m sso grateful to you and Leia for everything you’re trying to do, but I never wanted to be thiss much trouble. I never wanted to assk anyone for anything…”_

_“You didn’t ask.” Han’s voice is unusually soft. He gives my hand a squeeze. “We offered. And no matter how it turns out, we’d do it again.”_

Charlie usually visits once or twice a week, too. The first time I saw him in the visitors’ lounge, standing there with a little bouquet of flowers, it was such a surprise that after I’d wrapped my good arm around him for a long hug, my eyes had started watering the longer I held onto him. I was barely able to pull away and face up to the heavy, rock-like guilt sunk so deep in my stomach. When he’d seen my face, he’d fretted and fumbled for a tissue for me.

_“Don’t cry, little lady,” he says, patting at my shoulder awkwardly, before guiding me over to one of the sofas. “It’s gonna be alright. Just you sit here next to me.”_

_I snuffle pathetically but try to smile up at him. My energy levels are low, and my emotions jump like a live wire, but I’m so grateful to see him, even if I hate myself for crying again. It’s all I seem to do anymore. Winter says that’s normal, but it still doesn’t make me hate it less._

_“That’s better,” he affirms. “Now, Leia scolded me something fierce, tryin’ to put the fear of God into me about pestering you. She thinks I don’t know what it’s like to get my bell rung!”_

_He puts the bouquet of vivid flowers in my lap._

_“It ssuckss,” I tell him, and he barks a laugh. “I can’t focuss, and I lose my balance, and the headache iss alwayss there.”_

_“Well, the good news is, you’ll heal. That’ll all get better in time. The bad news is, it’s gonna take longer than you want.” He studies my face and gives me a wry smile. “And people can’t see your brain when they look at you, so they ain’t always going to understand.”_

_“Whaat happened to you?” I ask, curious._

_“Which time?” he replies easily, lifting an eyebrow at me. “I was in a Jeep crash in Korea, back when I was a young Army Private. And in Vietnam, well, we were under fire, and they hit a fuel tank on one of my birds, and I caught the wrong side of some flying debris. I didn’t lose consciousness, but I still went to a field hospital on account of the head wound. Needed stitches.”_

_“Wass it a long recoveryy?”_

_“Yes and no. No, because the Army waited a day or two, gave me some aspirin, and sent me back to my unit. Yes, because I was a grumpy, moody monster with a constant headache for months! Pissed off my squad constantly because I couldn’t keep track of anything to save my life. I’d get tired, and it’d feel like my legs didn’t want to work. But I didn’t look injured, so they said I wasn’t.”_

_I can’t imagine Charlie anything less than happy and sturdy as a brick tower. It’s a strange thought._

_“That’ss terrible,” I tell him. “It’ss not fair.”_

_“It’s easy not to see what you’re lookin’ at, sometimes. If everything’s the general shape it should be, you miss the details.” Charlie gives me a canny glance. “You’ve been relyin’ on that for a while now, haven’t ya?”_

_I frown and look down at my hand where it clutches the bouquet. Charlie’s another person who trusted me, and I’ve only ever given him a fat pack of lies. All these kind people, one after the other, who I’ve just looked in the eye and lied to._

_“I didn’t enjoy lying to you, Charlie,” I tell him, feeling the heavy throb of guilt in my heart, “I jusst didn’t want to be taken away.”_

_“I never thought you did enjoy it,” he responds kindly. “I wish to hell you hadn’t, but I can understand why. But can you promise me something?”_

_I nod and look up at him, curious._

_“If you need help, just come to ol’ Charlie, alright?”_

Today’s tall gentleman caller is Ben. I know Han or Leia can’t be too far off. They usually sign in and give us some time together before they come inside to check on me. Winter’s become accustomed to him already, and she loves to tease me about him because it’s one of the few things to make me smile, so she pats his arm warmly as he takes my arm from hers, carefully tucking me against his side. Four weeks after cracking my stupid head, I’m doing better with my walking, but my balance isn’t always predictable, and I feel more secure with some support. Just in case.

“It’s sunny this afternoon. Why don’t you two try a short walk around the building?” she suggests, before heading back to the infirmary wing.

“She’ss been making me walk more,” I tell Ben, smiling as he leans down to press a kiss to my cheek before leading me carefully outside. It’s brisk but not too cold, even if it is December.

“How’s that going?” he asks, giving a wave to Han and Leia who are seated at a picnic table, holding onto cups of coffee. They smile at the two of us, content to give us a few moments together. I usually have longer visits with Ben on the weekends when Leia signs me out for day visits at their home.

“Not sso bad. I’m usually ssteadier in the morning, wobblier when I’m tired at the end of the day. She sayss I should do physsical therapy. Vesstibular therapy to help with my balance.”

Ben listens attentively, his honey brown eyes intent. “We should tell my mom that. We can get you signed up after we bring you home.”

“Iss there any word? My caseworker sayss she hassn’t heard anything about a petition filing or a court date. Shouldn’t she have?”

His wide shoulders lift in a shrug. He’s as at sea as I am with all these legal dealings. Paperwork and court hearings and background investigations and interviews and home visits, and it all seems massively delayed, too, because I was fool enough to fall off my roof the weekend before Thanksgiving. So now we’re trapped in the weird in-between holiday time when people are supposed to be working but no one actually does.

Ben walks slowly, and it’s amusing to see how carefully he shortens his stride so I can keep pace with him. Ben’s always been careful with me, all too aware of his size and strength, but he treats me now like I’m as fragile as a robin’s egg. Before, he’d encouraged my boxing, praising my quick, fierce hits and agile footwork. I prefer before.

“Rose keeps asking me about you. Are you sure you don’t want her to visit? Poe and Finn are asking, too. They get why phone calls are hard for you, but they don’t understand why you won’t see them,” Ben tells me, his voice slightly chiding. I know he means well, but it rankles.

I shake my head. “I don’t want them to ssee me like thiss. In here. Wobbly. Sslurring like I’m drunk. Pleasse tell Rose thank you for the card. I’ll ssee her when I’m a little better.”

“C’mon. You know she’s desperate to see you.”

Now he’s cajoling me, and I find the defiant edges of my spirit hunkering down, readying themselves for a fight. As if he knows better than I do what I can handle, I think resentfully.

“Ben, I can’t. It’ss humiliating, okay?” My voice is brittle. “And it’d be bad enough, but I’m all _broken_. I’d haff to pretend to be better than I am. I can’t do that anymore. I’ve alwayss had to pretend, and I don’t haff energy for it right now.”

Ben’s feet come to a stop, and he pulls away from my side. A big hand cups my cheek, and he makes me look up at his face. His eyes seem darker, his expression brooding. I don’t know if he’s upset with me, if he thinks I’m being stubborn, or…

“Why are you being so moody? You’re going to have to face the world sometime, Rey. They just want to see you. They want to help you. They’re your _friends_.”

Oh, he thinks I’m moody. So _that’s_ it. The fog in my brain decides that seems like a clear enough thought, anyway.

“I’m not rready, Ben!” I hiss suddenly, shoving away from him. My feet don’t seem to find the ground exactly where I thought it would be, and I stumble a little. Ben grabs me with a rough hand, keeping me on my feet, his face showing frustration in everything from the curve of his lips to the set of his eyebrows.

“Rey, stop!” he shouts at me, gripping my arm tightly to prevent me from trying to wrench myself out of his grasp. “What the hell?”

“Every time I ssee you, you’re telling me what to do, who to ssee. I can’t. I can’t jusst be better because you want me to be, Ben.”

“I know it doesn’t work like that,” he barks at me. When the heads of other walkers turn to look at us curiously on the narrow walking path around the perimeter of the building turn, he lowers his voice. “I just want you to know how much people care. Do you have _any_ idea how I felt when I found you? I thought you were _dead_.”

“I ssaw your face when I woke up,” I say heatedly. “I’ll never forget.”

Haunted, red-rimmed eyes. The look of someone who thinks he’s lost everything. Everything. Pale, sweaty face with clammy, shaking hands. I’d done that to him. I’d ignored his request, and I’d gone on the roof, anyway. And now look at us.

“I’m trying to take care of you. I was supposed to be taking care of you, and you got hurt. I don’t know how to fix this.” Ben tucks my arm through his, and I can feel the anger licking off him.

My emotions are still chaotic, jumbling together and fighting for supremacy. It’s exhausting to be happy one moment, irritated and angry the next, only to descend into tears after that, and to have no sense of control over anything at all.

“You can’t fix thiss,” I mutter. “It’ss my fault. I haff to liff with it. Pleasse sstop pushing me when I ssay I can’t ssee people. It tiress me out too fasst right now.”

Ben huffs in frustration but nods. When we complete the loop, Han and Leia are there to greet me, smiling with warmth. I let them hug me, but after my words with Ben, I feel heavy-headed and distracted. Every time I glance at him, he gives me an inscrutable look, his wide mouth turning down at the corners unhappily. His parents look between us, sensing the tension, and when they leave, they make their usual promise to come get me for a day visit, and Ben gives me a stiff hug that leaves my heart aching.

My fault.

I don’t know what to do about it.

But I know it’s my fault.

+++

“I don’t think she caress,” I fret to Winter as she helps me tie my shoelaces.

Sometimes I wonder what Winter did to get stuck with me. I’m probably not the worst patient in terms of how sick I am—I’m not oozing or contagious, or anything—but I might be her neediest. She walks me to the bathroom and the lunchroom every day, makes sure I don’t fall in the shower, and she checks in on me constantly. I don’t think she’s supposed to, but I know she talks to Leia on the phone. Not that I mind. I know Leia would probably explode if she didn’t have an inside track on what was happening to me.

“They overload all the case workers. I can’t say anything much about her, not knowing her, but if she’s anything like the ones I’ve met, she has three times as many kids to deal with as she should. And since you’re not on fire--” she says, trying her best to be encouraging until I cut her off.

“Sso I should set myself on fire? And then she’ll tell me about my guardianship statuss?”

Winter decides to ignore my testiness. “Hey, someone slept well! Your speech sounds so good today!”

It’s true. I’m slurring less, and I’m so grateful. Weaving and wobbling and slurring hasn’t done much for my self-esteem, so the more control I have over my own limbs and voice the better. All bets are off when I’m agitated or tired, but at least my baseline isn’t completely derelict.

“It’ss a Chrisstmas miracle,” I tell her wryly, and she laughs.

I wonder why she’s here today and not with her family. Maybe she’s an orphan like me, I think. Or maybe she’s nice and willing to work so others can be home. Or maybe she’s both. Winter steps back so I can stand up, and she gets me wrapped up in Ben’s black zip-up hoodie. It’s big enough that she can pull it around my sling and zip it up for me with my arm tucked safely inside. And more importantly to me, anyway, is that it’s soft, and it smells like him.

“Are you excited for today? Christmas with that cute boyfriend of yours and his parents? That’ll be fun for you, I should think.”

Winter picks up my day bag, and then she tucks my arm into hers to take me downstairs. I think I could manage this on my own, but there’s a part of me that delights in being babied, maybe just a little. No one has for such a long time.

Leia and Han are kind, but they’re decisively letting me set my own pace for recovery, letting me determine how much I need from them. One Solo hovering around me acting like I’m going to crumble at any moment is enough. I feel like I can’t make a move without Ben’s eyes trained on me, sad and frustrated and loving and guilty, and since our argument, my own sadness and frustration is building a wall of silence between us.

Even if things haven’t been quite the same between Ben and me, I am glad to get away today. Christmas Eve had been painfully noisy thanks to the forced cheer the residential facility staff had tried pushing on us. The caroling gave me a headache, and I’d left my plate of cookies untouched. Just the sweet smell had turned my stomach.

“I haven’t celebrated ssince my aunt died,” I tell her, thinking back to the quiet holidays I used to have with Maz.

Homemade presents and small, practical gifts. A little tree decorated with paper ornaments and strings of popcorn. Cookies and cocoa. She’d put a tablecloth on our little dinette table and serve the nicest meal of the year. Chicken stuffed with wild rice one year. Stuffed pork chops and roasted apples another year. Always something unique we didn’t normally get to eat.

I wonder what Christmas with the Solos will be like.

I already feel awkward, not having anything for them, but there’s nothing to be done about that.

“Do you have planss for later?” I ask, as she leads me to the visitors’ lounge where Ben and his parents are waiting.

“Well, I’ll be here when you get back, but then I’m going home to have a late dinner with my son and his wife. She’s expecting a little one soon, so it’ll be a quiet evening. Not too much rum in the egg nog.” Winter gives me a little wink. Part of me is relieved to know Winter does have people. She’s so kind-hearted, and she deserves to have people. “Ah, here you go! There’s your young man.”

And indeed, there is Ben, standing awkwardly, his hands shoved in his coat pockets, looking at me with affection mixed with uncertainty and something else I can’t identify. Before we can say a word to each other, before he can put his arm around my shoulders and kiss my cheek, there are Leia and Han, who smile broadly and wrap their arms around me as they chat pleasantly with Winter before bearing me off towards the Falcon with Ben trailing silently behind us.

+++

The Solo house smells wonderfully of cookies and everything Han’s been whipping up in the kitchen. I know they had a big party here last night for Leia’s soldiers, and the foyer is decorated lavishly with garlands. If Leia and Han suspect anything is amiss with Ben and me, they don’t say, and leave us in the foyer.

Ben hovers, towering over me, watching me unzip the hoodie and hesitating briefly before taking it from me. I wish I could read his mind right now, because he keeps giving me these doubtful glances, filled with guilt and longing, and he hasn’t hardly said a word to me, and I don’t know what to do. He hasn’t even held my hand today, and I feel adrift.

Without prompting, he offers me his arm for balance as I toe off my battered tennis shoes, and I am about to try to say something to him, try to break through this heavy silence, when he gathers me roughly in his arms for a hug and kisses the top of my head. I feel a vibration, and I don’t know if it’s him or me shaking slightly, and perhaps it’s both of us, hungry for the other.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I know I’ve been weird this week. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about our fight, and I’m just so mad at myself. I want to help you get better, and I don’t know how, so instead I’m stressing you out.”

Typical Ben. Blaming himself for my outburst, my instability, my moods. I snort slightly, leaning into him, tightening my arm around his waist. He feels so solid and secure.

“It’ss my fault. It’ss hard for me to be… to be like thiss.”

“But you were right. I was pushing you, and I wasn’t listening to what you were saying.” He pulls back from me and looks down at my face, dark amber eyes studying me intently, as if I’ve just come back to him after a long journey. “You don’t have to be perfect for me. You know that, right? You never have to pretend for me. Not ever. I don’t really know what it’s like to have this kind of injury, and it’s easy to think things are okay just because you look like _you_.”

His large hand cups my cheek and he brushes a sweet kiss across my lips, and I feel like I’m going to melt into him, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I thought you’d maybe realized that I’m too much trouble, after all. Jusst like I’d warned you…” I tell him softly, and he shakes his head.

“More trouble than I expected, but not too much,” he teases me, slipping an arm around my waist. “C’mon. We’re going to drink peppermint cocoa, and we can decorate cookies, and whatever else you want to do.”

It’s the kind of Christmas that belongs in a Hallmark movie, at least from my perspective. The house is warm and cozy, everyone’s relaxed and happy, and I can smell wondrous things happening in the kitchen. Han said something about prime rib and cheesy potatoes, and I’m thoroughly excited to eat for the first time in a long time. The tree glows with white lights, and it’s all so serenely festive I wish I could freeze this moment in time.

After showing me the tree and a fat little snowman ornament with my name neatly lettered on it, Ben corrals me onto the couch in the living room with all the enthusiasm of a 200lb sheep dog, and he tucks a blanket around me, even though I keep protesting that I’m not an invalid. But Ben, finally recovered from being chastised by me a week ago, is back on his game as my protector. He brings me the promised cocoa, and we snuggle together as Leia flicks on the gas fireplace and turns on some soft holiday music. She gives me a glance to see if this is okay, and I give a little smile.

“Low music doessn’t bother my head.”

Ben snorts, “I don’t know. How good is Celine Dion for someone recovering from a concussion?”

Leia glares at Ben, and she points a finger at him, scolding him playfully, “The woman has a 5 octave voice, young man. A little respect is in order!”

“5 octaves of agony,” Ben mutters in my ear, making me laugh.

“At least she’s not inflicting the N’Sync Christmas album on you,” I tease. He’d told me of enduring listening to that with Poe and Finn last week. They’d been over at Finn’s house, playing Nintendo 64 all afternoon while eating the champurradas Poe’s mom had made for him to share.

Ben shudders at the memory. “Good cookies, bad music,” he complains.

Leia looks amused, ruffling his hair and giving my shoulder a squeeze as she walks by on her way back to the kitchen to what Han is up to—he’s just yelped in alarm and from the smell of it, something might be burning. Leia doesn’t seem particularly alarmed, apparently used to the occasional culinary disaster in her husband’s kitchen.

+++

Unlike past weekends where Ben’s pensively stared at me as if I’d fade from his sight at any moment, he finally seems to understand I’m doing better and that I will recover, even if we don’t know exactly how fast it will happen. We play footsie under the blanket, and he tells me how school is going, how nervous he is waiting to hear back from colleges, and how Poe is decisively flirting with one girl after another, all as we decorate a tray of sugar cookies.

“He says it’s a numbers game, and one is bound to like him back eventually,” Ben says with a snort, and I bite my lip to prevent myself from laughing too hard at our friend’s expense.

“Why iss he trying sso hard? He must be s-scaring the girls away.”

Poe’s exuberance can be a lot, but he’s so warm and charming. I’m always surprised he doesn’t have a girlfriend.

“I keep telling him to dial it back. Just let them come to him, you know.”

“Iss that how you got me?” I quirk an eyebrow at him teasingly. “S-so laid back, you didn’t have to do any woo-ing at all?”

“Isn’t that how it happened? I ignored you, and you had no choice but to beat me with your notebook to get my attention, you were so desperate for me.”

He waggles his eyebrows at me, his toothy grin so broad I could swim in his dimples.

“Ben!” I laugh, and he pulls me close, kissing me. I talk into the kiss, curling my fingers into his thick, wavy hair. It’s unfair for a boy to have hair this soft and luxurious, I think idly. “I wass dessperate to ssee the front of the room sso I wouldn’t fail the class.”

Ben smudges some icing onto my lips and kisses it off slowly, and I’m about to reach for more icing when we hear Han clearing his throat and throwing an amused look our way.

“Maybe it’s time you two got some fresh air. We’ve got a few hours until dinner. Rey, how ya doin’ sweetheart? You holding up? This big oaf isn’t tiring you out too much?”

Han swats at the back of Ben’s head lightly, his glare more for form’s sake than with any real heat.

I blush a little. “I’m alright. Maybe a w-walk and if it’ss okay, maybe I could lie down a while? It’ss better if I resst before I get too tired.”

Before we head outside, Ben fastidiously zips me back into his hoodie and ties my shoelaces for me with all the gravity of a knight performing a service for his lady.

On our walk, we kick through some fallen leaves, and we laugh at some of the tackier holiday displays. But after I wobble on his arm one too many times, the first I’d called a fluke, the second he’d called my bluff, and by the time I was wobbling a third time, we were back at his front door while he’s fretting worriedly, all nervous hands going through his hair, and frowning plush lips as he tries to decide how intensely to react.

“Ben, it’ss fine. Ssee? I made it to 1 p.m. today. I jusst need to resst a little while.”

He forces me to sit while he pulls off my shoes, and when Leia pokes her head out of the kitchen to say hello to us, she looks worried. 

“Everything alright? Han said you might need a nap. Charlie’s coming for dinner—you’ll want to rest up for that. Charlie plus holiday cheer is bound to be exciting,” she says lightly. “Ben, can you get her upstairs okay?”

I huff slightly. “I can do it.”

Mother and son alike give me a skeptical look as I stand up, perhaps a little more shakily than I would have five weeks ago. I don’t resist as Ben shadows me to the staircase, following me up each step slowly until we’re safely on the second floor. He steers me toward his room with a big hand cupping my elbow.

“Know how I know you need to rest?”

“How?” I ask him, sitting on the edge of his bed. I rub at my eyes a bit, feeling a dull throb behind them.

“Well, it’s not just the wobbles. You get a liiiiittle bit cranky,” he says with a wry grin. He messes about on his desk and finds me a couple of Tylenol, and he leaves briefly to retrieve a glass of water for me. “Headache, I’m guessing?”

“Hassn’t sstopped hurting since I woke up in the hosspital,” I tell him with a shrug. Sometimes I can scarcely remember what it's like for my head to _not_ hurt.

I down the Tylenol and water quickly, and before I crawl under the covers, I awkwardly shimmy out of my blue jeans, leaving me stripped down to a tee shirt and my serviceable cotton underwear.

“When do you want me to wake you up?” Ben asks, leaning over me to kiss me gently.

“You’re not going to sstay with me?” I make a sad little face and pout out my lower lip. “Pleasse?”

Ben hesitates, then quickly shuts his bedroom door before shucking off his dark gray henley and jeans and crawling under the covers next to me. I snuggle in close, burrowing into his broad side and resting my head on his shoulder, my broken arm tucked against my chest.

“I’ve missed this,” he says in a low voice, letting his thick fingers stroke through my hair. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t make sense all by myself.”

“I know the feeling.” I kiss his shoulder lightly, turning my head so my lips can brush over his skin just as I close my eyes. He smells so good, soapy and like his spicy deodorant and just so… Ben. I take a deep breath and settle in, feeling the exhaustion ripple across me now that I’m more willing to acknowledge it.

“There’s something else I’ve been afraid to tell you this week. Another reason I’ve been so quiet… I haven’t really known how to tell you.”

“Hmm? Whatssat?” I ask him, words growing sloppier.

“They’re starting the background checks. For the guardianship. The state has to make sure we’re suitable before handing you over.” Ben’s voice is halting. “Everyone in the household has to be investigated.”

“Your mom’ss an Army Colonel. Your dad wass a helicopter chief,” I remind him, drowsing away, only cognizant of Ben’s warm hand on my shoulder, and the rise and fall of his broadly muscled chest.

I don’t hear Ben as I slip further into a weightless sleep. I needed this so badly. I needed Ben’s warm arms around me so I could finally relax.

_“And I was convicted…”_

+++

I wake slowly, yawning and nuzzling into Ben’s shoulder. He’s so warm, a broad furnace for me to curl against. As I shift, I hear a drowsy grunt from him, and he shifts to lean over me, sliding a big hand over my hip and squeezing.

“Mmf, I can’t believe I fell asleep,” he mumbles, brushing his lips against mine. “Especially with you drooling all over my chest.”

“Hm? What? I did not!” I wriggle away from him laughing, and he grins at me.

“You’re right. It was my shoulder. I was trying to read, and you totally slimed me.”

Ben stalks closer to me in his bed, which is fortunately larger than my old twin bed in the trailer, but it’s tucked against the wall and soon enough there’s nowhere for me to go.

“Can you forgive your very tired girlfriend?” I ask him playfully, reaching my good arm toward him so I can ruffle his hair and tug on a big ear, which earns a toothy smile from him. “I haven’t sslept that well in a month.”

“Must be true—look how chipper you are right now.” Ben slides am arm around my waist and tugs me closer to him gently, his hand brushing lightly over my ribs as if to ask if he’s being gentle enough. “Your moods are a little unpredictable when you’re tired.”

I sigh slightly, and I tug on Ben’s hair so he leans down to kiss me again. “I knoooow. Ssorry. I can’t help it, and then I feel awful.”

His lips are so soft against mine that a shiver courses through my body, and I close my eyes, enjoying the scent, the touch, the warmth of him so close to me under the blankets.

“Don’t feel awful. No one’s mad about it,” Ben says, cupping my face with his hand, his eyes soft as he looks down at me. “I love you, sweetheart. Even when you’re grumpy. My squatch-like ways were bound to rub off on you eventually.”

“I wish I could be here with you and go back to sschool.”

Ben looks doubtful for a second, and I wonder why. He lowers his gaze from mine and teases me instead, nuzzling his nose along the curve of my neck, “You’re such a nerd, Mrs. Solo. I bet all your dreams are about Calc 2.”

“Only ssome of them,” I tell him, kissing his cheek and the side of his head until he turns to claim my mouth with his in a hungry kiss that knocks the breath out of me. His big body shifts so that he leans slightly over me, and he nips at my lower lip until I open my mouth for him.

As he dips his tongue into my mouth with light flicks, and I respond with an answering moan as a flicker of warmth curls deep in my belly, my fingers curling into his hair and tugging at it until he growls. It isn’t long before I can feel his cock, hot and hard and insistent, nudging against my hip. I make a small, pleased noise, and Ben freezes and pulls back suddenly, exhaling what sounds like a groan of pain.

“Sorry… give me a minute,” he sighs, burying his face in the curve of my neck and cupping his groin. “Fuck. Sorry, Rey.”

I hadn’t realized how hard I was breathing, and I reach for him, brushing my fingertips over his arm, admiring the curve of his taut muscles. “Why? Ben… I thought… do you not want to…?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says miserably, and I watch him shift uncomfortably, as if he can will away his erection.

“But you weren’t,” I tell him, feeling hurt. “I… I liked it. Felt good. I haven’t felt that good ssince I got hurt.”

Ben shifts to look at me, and I can see how flushed he is, from his red cheeks to his pink-tipped ears. Even his neck and chest are blotchy. He looks upset with himself, and I see the tension in his jaw as if he’s made up his mind already that he’s done irreparable damage. “You made a noise…”

I flush slightly. “A happy noisse, Ben.”

“I shouldn’t be trying to have sex with you right now,” he mutters, leaning his head against mine and closing his eyes against the self-doubt I can see written all over his handsome face. “God, I’m an asshole. You just felt so sweet and soft in my arms, and I wanted all of you.”

“But I want…” I whisper in his ear, kissing at his neck as let my fingers play over the flat plane of his stomach, trailing the faint line of dark fuzz that leads from his navel downward to other interesting places. Ordinarily, I’d find my way to kiss along that line, nipping at the slight softness of his lower belly, but my ribs aren’t appreciative of that kind of twisting and turning currently. “I want all of you, Ben. I sswear, I’m fine. Jusst be gentle.”

Ben shivers under my touch, and he presses warm, wet kisses to my neck as he slides his hand under my tee shirt. “You’re sure? You’ll tell me if anything hurts?”

“Yess,” I whisper, closing my eyes and reveling in the feel of his calloused fingertips shoving my bra aside so he can tease my sensitive nipples. I suddenly feel a hundred degrees warmer. “Please, make me feel good, Ben.”

I can feel the tension in his body dissipate, and he dips his head to nuzzle my breasts, then suck lightly on my nipples as his hand firmly slides down the flat of my belly. I know it’s only been five weeks, but I feel fire in my veins at his touch.

“I’m going to make you come,” he whispers seriously, tugging my panties over my hips and down my legs until I can kick them away. He licks and nips at the underside of my small breasts, making me sigh, and he laughs warm puffs of breath against my skin.

It’s hard for me to reciprocate touching him with only one arm, but I do my best, running fingertips down his side until he shivers, and tugging playfully at the waistband of his boxer shorts. Ben sucks a small bruise against the curve of my breast, making a pleased noise deep in his chest in the process. When he traces a single finger between my legs, I can’t help the noise I make, the way my toes curl, or how I grasp at his bicep.

Ben grazes his teeth over the soft skin of my breasts, teasing another bite, another little love mark.

“You do need it, don’t you?” he says teasingly, sinking his thick finger inside me slowly. He shifts to kiss me again, his tongue seeking mine. When we pause, I see him smiling at me, eyes hazy with desire. He always looks so relaxed and boyish, the gruff saturnine cryptid gone, when he’s got me in his arms, at his mercy.

I nod my head, and I kiss him lightly, giving his lower lip a little nip. I pout playfully for him, tugging harder at his boxers, finally successful at sliding them over his muscular rump and freeing his heavy erection from its confines. From what I am seeing and feeling, Ben’s been relieving his stress at the gym for the past few weeks. “I need it bad, Benny. I’ve been ssuch a good girl, waiting for you.”

“I have no doubts, Rey,” he whispers, nipping at the side of my neck and stroking his finger inside of me, coaxing more and more wet arousal from within. I can feel myself shivering around his finger, and he runs the tip of his nose along my ear as he slowly adds another finger, grinning as I moan softly at the stretch. “You’re so nice and wet for me, just like always.”

The next time I make a little noise, he slots his mouth over mine, kissing me and muffling the noise.

“Shhhh, sweetheart,” he chides, and I can see he’s loving this, his apprehension from before forgotten entirely.

His slow, stroking touches inside me are building flames that are flaring higher and burning brighter with every passing second. And when his thumb circles my clit, I gasp and shudder, feeling my tight inner muscles clench down on his fingers, making him groan.

“That’s it, be a good girl,” he urges in a low voice, circling harder on that sensitive, swollen bundle of nerves as his fingers pump more firmly into me, bringing me quickly to the edge. There’s only him and me and these beautiful waves of pleasure and the wet squelch of his fingers working into me. And as he nips at my neck again, I crash over that edge with a gasp, my hips bucking against his hand violently.

“Ah! Ben!”

I bury my face against his shoulder as I pant my pleasure, trying to keep my noises muffled. My thighs are shaking, and Ben’s hand stills in its artful ministrations before sliding his fingers out and resting his hand on my belly as if to soothe me. He presses kisses across my brow, and I feel the way he smiles, smugly satisfied at how quickly he made me lose control.

I lay there with him, catching my breath, and I’m sure I’m flushed and perspiring and rumpled with my shirt and bra shoved up and my legs flopped haphazardly. Ben traces a finger over my abdomen, making little designs. Xs and Os. I think he even traces _Mrs. Solo_ into my skin, from the playful look he gives me.

But I can still feel him, pressing hopefully against my hip, wet with precum. With more of my brain at my disposal, I remember my earlier plan, and I wrap my hand around his cock as I nip at his collarbone.

That’s worth an immediate groan of pleasure, and he closes his eyes beatifically.

“Iss that your calculuss face, Mr. Ssolo?” I say with a mischievous glint in my eyes. I want him to feel as good as he made me feel, so I flicker my tongue over the flat of his nipple and give his cock a little stroke, smearing his precum along the shaft.

“Derivatives make me so hard,” he groans, his hips bucking slightly, thrusting into my hand.

“Harder than your future wife?” My voice lilts wickedly, and I give him a little squeeze, finding a rhythm that I know well works for him.

“Never,” he gasps. Ben pulls my hand away from his cock, and he shifts to cover my body with his own, resting on his forearms so he doesn’t weigh down on me. He dips his head to kiss me briefly, his voice ragged with need, “Can I… I want to be inside you, Rey.”

I can feel the hot, urgent weight of his cock against my thigh, and I let my lips nuzzle against his as I speak.

“Be with me, Ben.”

He reaches between us, his warm eyes locking with mine as he guides himself into position. I’m already soft and wet from before, and in just a few slow thrusts, he’s buried deep inside me, and his whole body is quaking. He feels… it’s amazing, the wet slide of his cock pumping into me, the stretch, the thick heat of him. My thighs sprawl inelegantly as I bask in the sheer pleasure of it. I’ve had mine, and watching him chase his pleasure, the dance of sensations playing across his expressive face, it’s making me sigh and moan happily beneath him.

“Rey,” he groans, his face pressing against my neck as he thrusts harder, and I rock with him, panting, holding tight onto him. “I love you so much.”

“Love you, Ben,” I moan, arching slightly under him, rolling my hips. I can feel how close he is. I can sense the tension building in his movements, I can hear the way his breathing changes, I can feel how his wet, open-mouthed kisses become hungrier against my neck. I whisper in his ear, “Want you to come… come insside me, Ben… wanna feel your come in me…”

That’s what he needs. He likes when I whisper naughty things in his ear.

I gasp as his body jerks, and he shouts his climax into the pillow, his hips stuttering in ragged thrusts as he fills me. After a few moments, his movements have slowed, and he gives a few gentle pumps before pulling out wetly. He’s panting hard, and I can feel his pulse racing, as on fire as my own. Ben kisses my neck, my shoulder, and brushes his lips across mine before shifting off me, careful not to trap me under his body weight.

“Oh my god…” he says, dazed, looking up at the ceiling before turning to look at me with an amazed smile.

I bite my lip impishly and snuggle close to him, batting my eyes innocently.

“Merry Chrisstmass, Ben.”

He snorts, trying to repress a laugh. He’s so warm next to me, that I sigh happily, resting my head on his shoulder. “Does this make you naughty or nice?”

I think for a moment, as if I’m pondering one of the great questions of the universe.

“Definitely nice.”

Ben hums thoughtfully for a second.

“That was better than nice.”

+++

There’s a knock on the door, and I hear Leia’s bemused voice. I guess she and Han assumed the closed door meant… well. I suppose the idea isn’t a stretch, if I’m being honest with myself.

“Charlie’s here, and he’s going to come drag the two of you downstairs if you don’t report soon. You’ve got ten minutes, kids. He says he doesn’t care if you’re butt naked.”

Ben groans, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands, but he glances at me through his fingers with a wry smile.

“They think I’m a pervert who can’t keep his hands off you.”

“Aren’t you? And what doess that make me?”

Ben and I had straightened our clothes and sneaked into the bathroom to clean up and tidy ourselves, trying not to look like we’d just had a little holly jolly ho ho ho. And since, we’d been cuddled chastely together, whispering about the future.

How I’ll move in and go back to school. How we’ll get married as soon as I’m eighteen. How we’ll go to college and get good jobs and one day buy a little house with a garden in a pretty town that’s nothing like Jakku. We’ll read worn paperback books on a soft couch at night, and we’ll have a porch swing, and we’ll have a baby or two, and we’ll send the kids to Han and Leia for a couple of weeks every summer.

“They think you’re an angel,” he says, standing up and helping me to my feet.

“I think they’re a little more realisstic than that.” I give him a pointed look, and he laughs.

At this point, his parents have seen us drunk together, seen us sneaking kisses, seen hickeys on my neck, and now Leia’s even been in my trailer, where I’m sure it was crystal clear Ben and I were all but cohabitating.

Ben helps me down the stairs with one hand carefully wrapped around my upper arm in case I lose balance, and no sooner am I off the bottom step that Charlie’s sweeping me into his arms for a hearty hug. While Ben shouts at him to be careful with me, Han and Leia laugh, and I swat at Ben’s concerned hands so I can enjoy my bear hug from Charlie who isn’t squeezing me that tightly, anyway.

“There’s my little lady,” he shouts cheerfully, finally settling me down and turning his attentions to pull Ben into a tight hug. He grins down at Ben—a rare sight to see anyone outsize my Ben—and ruffles his messy hair.

“You let him keep his hair long like a hippie?” he asks Han. He’s clearly not that offended by him, but Charlie’s in a mood to razz Ben. “I thought this was an Army family.”

“Last time I checked, only one of us was in the Army,” Ben says cheekily, pointing at his mother.

Leia rolls her eyes and corrals us into the living room, smiling warmly at Charlie as she coaxes the older man to sit down in an armchair near the Christmas tree.

Han bustles in with a couple of beers for him and Charlie, and when Ben raises his eyebrows in interest, Han glances to Leia, who glances back to Han with a sharply raised eyebrow, who in turn grins and shrugs, making Leia sigh, and Ben reads the room and scrambles to the kitchen to get himself a beer before anyone changes their mind. He at least brings me a glass of water upon his return, settling in next to me happily. I can’t help but laugh inwardly thinking this might be the most exciting Christmas of Ben’s life at the rate we’re going.

“Did Ben tell you the state acknowledged the paperwork we filed this week? They’re starting the process, _finally_ ,” Leia tells me. “They’re going to send someone out to do a home visit and interview us after the new year starts, and they’re also running background checks… I imagine they’re going to want to talk to you, too.”

She’s taken a seat next to me on the floor, and she looks cozy in her oversized sweater and jeans and thick socks. For once, she’s not wearing makeup, and I’m surprised to see her in glasses with charmingly oversized frames. She looks… well, she looks less like the Colonel and more like a mom.

“I think Ben wass trying to tell me about it, but I fell assleep,” I admit. “I’m glad, though. Mrs. Kandia kept ssaying she hadn’t heard anything. I thought she wass lying to me.”

Leia sighs. “Well, I called her and told her on Monday, so who knows. I’m not impressed with her, to say the least. Anyway… if things proceed, we should have a hearing hopefully before the end of January. And hopefully we’ll get assigned an understanding judge.”

I nod and take Leia’s hand giving it a squeeze. Ben’s on the other side of me, sipping his beer, looking pensive, and I see the anxious look that passes between Han and him before Han interrupts with a broad, crooked grin.

“Hey now—you know what I’m interested in? Let’s give these kids some presents.”

Leia smiles approvingly, and Ben slides an arm around my waist so I can lean against him comfortably as they pass a couple of gifts to Ben and me. Like at Ben’s birthday, they do things simply, and I’m pleased to receive a framed picture of Ben and me at the Homecoming dance and a small photo book full of pictures of me with the Solos throughout the year. Ben’s birthday, goofing around in the backyard, sitting with our friends during our cookout, pictures from the 4th of July and the trip to Myrtle Beach. It’s all here, picture after picture.

I hug Han and Leia tightly in thanks, sniffling back tears, and they rub my back affectionately.

Han’s voice is gruffly teasing as I sit back down, wiping my eyes, “Now, come on, sweetheart. We didn’t do this to make you cry.”

After that, they give me a package of tortoiseshell hair clips, and Ben receives a watch with a leather band and a tool kit in a red metal box.

“To get you started,” Han tells him. “A guy’s gotta know how to fix things. I’ll show you the ropes if you let me.”

Ben’s eyes fill with regard for his dad, and I see a look of understanding pass between the two, despite Han’s nonchalant, gruff ways, and for Ben’s tempestuous emotions. Leia seems more than pleased to observe them, and I can only imagine how hard the Solo family fought for this moment.

Ben and I both receive beautiful leather-bound journals to record our thoughts. Considering how forgetful I’ve been lately, this will be such a help. And from Charlie, we get boxes of chocolate and knit caps with his auto shop logo. He grins broadly as I tug one of the caps onto Ben, and Ben ducks his head, sheepishly tucking his prominent ears under the cap.

“Now you’ll both be fashionable all winter,” Charlie says with a laugh, blue eyes twinkling.

I don’t know about Ben, but I’ll gladly wear this cap every day.

“Charlie, when I come home, can I have my job back?” I ask, climbing to my feet slowly. I waver a little, but Ben and Leia put out hands to steady me, and I smile at them before making my way to Charlie’s chair to press a kiss to his fuzzy cheek.

“Of course, ya can,” he says, beaming at me. “And this time around, I’ll start teaching you about the cars, too. How does that sound?”

I give him a tight hug, squealing with excitement, and Han laughs.

“Ben, you gotta watch this guy. Mr. Steal Your Girl over there.”

Ben grins, shrugging helplessly. “I can’t fight true love.”

+++

The day is over too soon, and after dinner, after pie, the Solos return me to the residential facility. Ben and Leia walk me inside, and she signs me back in at the front desk.

It’s a weird feeling, watching her do that. I feel like a book getting checked out of the library, then returned so I can sit on the shelf until I’m wanted again. I have more visitors than most of the kids in the infirmary, it seems, and I shouldn’t complain, but it’s such a lonely feeling.

She hugs me, patting my cheek fondly, “Merry Christmas, Rey. We’ll see you soon, alright?”

I nod, choking up slightly, and I squeeze her hands. I can’t think of a thing to say, but I think she understands. I’ve all this warmth, all this love, and now I’m back in the real world. My world.

Ben takes his turn, kissing my cheek sweetly despite the glum expression on his face. There’s something panicked that vibrates between us as if we’re mutually terrified that every time we see each other is the last time, and I can’t understand why this thought should be in our heads.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Every day until I have to go back to school.”

I kiss him briefly, and after saying goodnight, I wait for Winter to come get me and put me back on my shelf.

My bed seems colder than normal, even with all my extra pillows. As I burrow deeper under the covers, I reach my hand up to touch the pendant hanging around my neck, and I close my eyes.

_Ben pulls a small silver box from under the tree._

_“This is for you,” he says, leaning his shoulder against me as he gives me a little smile. I lean back against him comfortably and take the box._

_Ben watches with interest as I slowly unwrap it, and I lift the lid, revealing a white stone, smooth and polished and perfectly round in its pendant, hanging from a silver chain. It’s shimmering and pearlescent, but it seems to glow with its own internal fire, belying any kind of simplicity._

_“It’s a fire opal.”_

_I brush my fingertips over it, smiling so broadly my cheeks hurt as I look at him. “It’ss beautiful, Ben. I haven’t sseen anything like it before.”_

_He takes it from the box, and I turn so he can gently put it around my neck, and I feel his thick fingers fumbling with the tiny clasp, making him grumble._

_“It reminded me of you.”_

_When the necklace hangs safely around my neck, I turn and kiss Ben for a long time._

_“I love you,” I whisper against his lips._

_He pulls back slightly, and I think he’s about to give in to his cocky Solo genetics and tell he knows. But he doesn’t._

_Instead, he gently pulls me into his warm embrace, and we sit wrapped up in each other’s arms by the tree, enjoying the glow of firelight, ignoring the cold outside._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a very smutty Christmas, y’all! 
> 
> Leia’s a Celine stan. WHO KNEW? I think it tracks. Leia’s a total 90s mom, after all.
> 
> Champurradas are a type of sesame seed cookie made in Guatemala. 
> 
> My husband and I debated Sony Play Station vs. Nintendo 64, but since my husband was a Nintendo 64 guy, that’s what made the cut for the story. 
> 
> I started a Drive You Home playlist on Spotify. It contains songs referenced in the fic, a couple of relevant TV theme songs, and stuff mentioned in the end notes. [ Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)


	45. dead end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. January 1999. School. Background check. The hearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Oh my god, it’s Rey!”

Rose gasps excitedly, causing Finn’s and Poe’s heads to jerk up in startlement. The grow wide-eyed as Rey carefully climbs out of the dingy, dented Jakku Youth Services van.

I grin to myself, knowing Rey had wanted to surprise everybody. She’d been feeling so much better the week after Christmas, she had hounded her caseworker to work with the school to let her come back for half days so she could finish her coursework from last semester. Mrs. Kandia hadn’t been great at returning her calls until Winter gave Rey the DCW directory and told her to call Kandia’s supervisor. That had changed Kandia’s tune with lightning speed, even if it hadn’t exactly endeared her to Rey.

And now our friends understand why I’d lingered so long in the school’s drop-off zone, out in the cold January morning, rather than go inside.

Rose and Finn race up to her, quickly pulling her in for a hug, cautious of her cast. I can’t hear what Rey’s saying to them, but they’re sniffling, and she’s wiping her eyes, but they’re all laughing.

Poe playfully shoves Rose and Finn aside when he catches up, shouting with his usual enthusiasm, “My turn!” before giving her a tight squeeze and kissing her cheek.

Rey looks past them and smiles at me, eyes bright and happy, and it’s so good to see her here, like it’s any ordinary school day, complete with that terrible old backpack of hers. She might look a bit thin and tired, but I think if she can just have a little bit of normal, she’ll recover that much faster. She’s scrappy; she can thrive on so little, even when she deserves so much.

“What’s your schedule? Do you need help with anything?” Finn asks, his dark eyes serious as he looks over her face.

I’d told them about her injuries, that she was just a little slower and wobblier than before, but better all the time.

She gives a little shake of her head as she speaks, “No schedule, really. I have to talk to my teachers from last semester, and then I’m going to be in the library doing the catch-up work. I can only handle half-days right now.”

She’d had a check-up over the weekend, and she’d been cleared for half-days and light physical activity, under the encouragement to not push too hard. When she’s tired, her symptoms flare up spectacularly, and she ends up frustrated and tearful and in pain from the constant headache.

“Will you eat lunch with us?” Poe falls into step next to Rey, and Rose gives her the most pleading glance as she loops her arm through her friend’s.

I don’t mind trailing behind them as they walk, just enjoying the sight of Rey so happy. It makes me feel like the last six weeks have been a terrible dream and we could wake up at any minute and find ourselves happy and untroubled. “Please, Rey? When do they come get you?”

“They’re coming back for me at one, so I’ll be here for lunch.”

When the bell rings, our friends scatter, and Rey looks up at me, and I see her exhale a deep breath. She puts her hand on my arm, and I feel a tremble.

“You alright?”

She nods slightly. “I’m just relieved. I was worried they’d be mad at me for not seeing them all this time.”

“No way. They missed you like crazy, but they understood. They might be mad that you left them with a gloomy sasquatch instead, but they’ll get over it,” I tell her with a small smile. “Let’s get your homework.”

By the time I find her in the library before lunch, she’s a little wan and rubbing her head, her shoulders drooping tiredly. She looks as if every ounce of energy has been wrung out of her, and all she’s done is sit in the library for a few hours. I fight the impulse to gather her in my arms and fuss over her when she’s like this, but I know she’d be upset if I tried it here at school. She’s intent on proving to the world that she can handle herself.

I try not to startle her, but she jumps and gasps when I touch her shoulder, and she whirls around, eyes wide. “Oh! Ben, okay. I don’t know who I thought you were,” she says breathlessly.

I can tell she’d lost focus like she does when she’s tired. Her eyes are always a little vague, and she always give these little jumps when she finds her way back to the moment, as if she’s just been splashed with icy water.

She flushes, motioning to the books and stacks of worksheets in front of her. Her voice is a soft as she admits, “I’m a little overwhelmed. I know it’ss only three weekss’ worth of work, but…”

She shakes her head, frowning at the drag in her speech, and looking discouraged before she starts tidying everything up, tucking papers into folders. When everything is neat, I take it all to the librarian to store until Rey comes back tomorrow. Homework isn’t part of her program right now. From the way Rey’s fingers linger over the folders, I know if I weren’t there, she’d try to take the work back to the facility to keep toiling, working herself into a dizzy spell or worse.

“Let’s get some food in you,” I tell her, helping her into my hoodie and slinging her backpack over my shoulder. “Do you have Tylenol?”

A little sigh escapes her, and she gives me an assessing glance. “You can tell I have a headache jusst by looking at me.”

“I’m an expert in Reyology.”

I’m rewarded with a little laugh, and she digs a small bottle of Tylenol out of her pocket and stops at a water fountain to down two of the tablets before we make our way to the cafeteria. I keep her tucked close to me, ignoring the odd looks she gets in the hallway. I haven’t said anything, and our friends would never tell people her personal business, but things get around, I suppose. I glower at them, and a few students flinch and turn away. Good. My reputation is good for something, at least.

“I can read for a little while, but then everything startss to sswim. It’s kind of hard to focuss,” Rey admits to me quietly, and not giving a damn who sees it, I lean down to kiss her forehead.

“Just go at the pace you can handle. All that matters is that you finish the work. Don’t even worry about your grades.”

“Eassy for you to ssay,” she grumbles. “My GPA iss going to be fucked.”

“Language, Ms. Sands!” shouts Mr. Ackbar as he bustles past us in the hallway, and Rey groans as I laugh.

The cafeteria is a noise explosion that makes Rey flinch on impact, but with our friends waving excitedly, there’s no ducking out.

“We can eat somewhere else,” I offer, but Rey shakes her head.

“Too cold outsside. This iss fine.”

It isn’t, and I can see it on her face, but she gives me such a determined look that I take her to where Rose and Finn are seated, and I see Gwen and Kay smiling next to Poe.

“See? There she is. Takes a lickin’, keeps on tickin’!” Poe declares, scooching down the bench to make room for us.

Rey glares at him and gives him a shove as she sits down. It’s a foregone conclusion that I’m going to get lunch for her, I suppose, but Poe quirks an eyebrow at me and gets up.

“Alright, for that I owe you lunch. What do you want, secret squirrel?”

I swear, this guy has more bizarre nicknames for my girlfriend than I could possibly imagine. Secret squirrel kind of makes sense, at least.

“Friess and a Ssprite,” she says with a smile. “Thankss, Poesseph.”

If Poe catches anything weird with her speech, he doesn’t say a thing, just salutes and trots off.

“Are you ever going to eat a vegetable, Rey?” I ask her teasingly, and she rolls her eyes with a bemused look on her face.

Finn makes a face at me, then grins as he gladly takes up Rey’s defense. “C’mon, sasquatch, live a little. She can’t live off deer carcasses and nuts and berries in the forest with you. The girl needs grease!”

I grunt slightly, and Rose laughs before turning to Rey. “How was the catch-up work today?”

Rey shrugs nonchalantly. “Fine. I’m going to finish one class at a time. Eassier to focuss like that, you know? What about you? Did your family travel for Chrisstmass again?”

Rose tells her all about Christmas adventures with Paige at their grandparents’ house in Louisiana, and Finn talks about riding quads with Poe and his dad in some of the wooded areas around Jakku. Gwen and Kaydel had stayed on post for the holidays but had apparently snuck out for some wild house party on New Year’s Eve.

“Were you able to do anything for the holidays?” Rose asks, and I can see the regret in her eyes as soon as she blurts out the question.

Poe arrives then with the requested French fries and Sprite and ranch and ketchup for her to pick from. He winks at her, then settles in next to Gwen and Kaydel.

Rey thanks him quietly and glances at me before answering Rose with a little blush. “Yeah. I went to Ben’s for Christmass, and we spent New Year’ss Day together.”

On New Year’s Day, Rye and I spent the morning annoying my dad in the kitchen, stealing bits and pieces of vegetables and avocado he was slicing and dicing in preparation for tacos. He’d eventually chased us out of the house with orders to get fresh air, and we’d walked a fair distance before Rey admitted sheepishly that she was exhausted.

We’d gone back to the house to take a nap, but upon waking up, I hadn’t been able to help but notice how good she smelled. She always smells so good. Like soap and lavender shampoo.

_I nuzzle at the back of her neck, planting gentle kisses along the delicate bones of her vertebra, and eventually she stirs awake, yawning and stretching in her feline way._

_“Mmm, how long have I been assleep?” she asks softly. She begins to turn, but I hold fast to her, keeping her spooned in front of me. I can feel the amusement in her as she laughs, and I growl against her neck, and I hold my arm in front of her so she can look at my watch. “Oooh, almost two hours. Good nap.”_

_I slide my hand up to cup her breast through her thin undershirt, and my lips graze up her neck until I can nip at the soft skin just behind her ear._

_“Hmmm. You know what I think?” I ask teasingly, flicking my tongue against her earlobe, enjoying the way she wriggles._

_“What?”_

_“I think it would be bad luck if we didn’t have sex today. It’s the first day of the new year.”_

_Rey laughs brightly. “Oh, I seeeee. You think we should sset a precedent for how we want our year to go?”_

_I press a kiss to her shoulder and roll my hips into her backside so she can feel my growing erection. “Yep. I think we need to play it safe.”_

_It doesn’t take any time at all to remove our clothes, and before long, we’re breathing hard, and Rey’s trying to muffle her moan as I push into her. She’s so tight and wet and soft, I nearly lose my mind, but somehow, I manage to go slowly, reveling in the pulse of life between us, that incredible oneness, and I think how impossible it would be to ever let go of her._

_Rey brings her hand down to work her clit as I thrust into her steadily, holding her slim body snugly against mine as we gasp our pleasure. When I feel her body spasm and her walls begin to flutter and clench around my cock, I know I can’t hold on any longer. I bury my face in the curve of her neck as my hips jerk and I come inside her in a hot burst that leaves me shaking._

_As we catch our breath, I pull out of her and cuddle her close, brushing tender kisses on her cheek, casually taking inventory with a glance and the light touch of my hands along her arms._

_She laughs softly, “I’m fine, Ben.”_

_I huff, annoyed to be caught, and then I nuzzle her cheek. “I’m going to check on you every day for the rest of our lives, Mrs. Solo.”_

_Rey glances over her shoulder to grin at me, all dimples and hazel eyes. “I know.”_

So. A good New Year’s Day. I try to stay focused on the completely non-sexual conversation Rey is having with our friends as she picks at her fries, sharing them with the others.

“Yeah, I thought it would be amazing, but it has turned out to be super creepy,” Rose tells Rey, her eyes wide. “My parents got us each a furby, and hand to God, we woke up one morning, and they were talking to each other.”

Finn shudders, disturbed. “That is not okay. First furbies, then Skynet. You’ve got to destroy them, Rosie, before they destroy us.”

Rey laughs, her dimples deepening. “But can’t we live peacefully with our robot overlordss?”

Finn, decisive as he speaks, “No. No, we can’t, peanut.”

That only serves to make Rey and Rose giggle harder.

Meanwhile, Poe is trying to corral people into going to the movies, with varying degrees of success.

“I’m definitely going to see _Varsity Blues_ when it comes out,” Poe declares, making Gwen and Kaydel roll their eyes. “Did you see the movie trailer? That girl is wearing a whipped cream bikini! WHIPPED CREAM BIKINI.”

This guy. Good lord. I can tell Rey’s trying her best not to laugh as she glances his way, but her cheek is twitching with the effort.

Rose sighs, but Finn chimes in, all solidarity. “It looks good. It’s got the van der Beek! Can’t miss. Rose and I will definitely go with you.”

Rose’s face screws up in annoyance, but that doesn’t last long before she starts to give me her sly, calculating look, and I just shake my head. I’ve been on the wrong side of that look too many times. That’s how I ended up looking like an idiot on roller skates or at parties where they’re playing Master P.

There’s absolutely no way, Rose. No how. Never going to happen. Nope. Nuh uh.

Rey recognizes Rose’s look, and before Rose can finesse a way to entrap Rey and me into taking in a matinee and suffering alongside her through that movie, Rey touches her hand and says lightly, “Theaterss are too loud for me right now.”

That might not even be true by the time the movie is released in a week or so, but I’m not going to undermine the excuse.

+++

That night, after dinner, my parents’ lawyer contacts us saying that we have a court date. At last.

“January 26th,” Mom tells me, hanging up the phone after dinner on Monday night. “That’s enough time for them to finish the background checks and interviews and do a home visit with us to make sure we haven’t wall-papered our house with human skin.”

Dad quirks an eyebrow at Mom’s turn of phrase, and she looks pleased with herself.

At any rate, the court hearing is less than three weeks away. My stomach feels leaden and that’s not just my dad’s yankee pot roast at work. I think of the trust and hope in Rey’s eyes when she looks at me, and part of me withers knowing how disappointed she’s going to be if things don’t work out. Who the fuck am I kidding? I’m not going to be fit for human society if it’s my fault Rey can’t come home with us.

Dad squeezes my shoulder slightly. “We don’t have anything to hide. If the judge is reasonable, I don’t foresee a problem. Leia, do we know who it is yet? That lawyer have any idea?”

Mom shakes her head, and she passes by Dad and me to pour herself another glass of iced tea. She purses her lips, studying my face.

She’s too good at reading me, I think, when she asks me gently, a hint of humor sprinkled through the concern “If I told you not to worry, do you think that would help?”

I shake my head, unable to keep myself from smiling briefly, glumly at my mother despite the ever-present pulse of anxiety. “I don’t know how not to worry about this.”

Understatement of the century. I know my parents understand that Rey means a lot to me, but I don’t think their comprehension extends to the fact that she’s my fiancée and that I’m sitting here potentially on the verge of losing the girl I’m going to marry.

It’s too much. Even I know it’s too much.

The thought of it makes me groan inwardly, but I know what I have to do, and I grumble out loud to my parents, “I think I’d like to move up my appointment with Dr. Santekka, if possible. I was too angry to do any real work last time, and I kind of owe him an apology, anyway.”

Dad ruffles my hair and tries not to laugh as he speaks, “I heard some of the yelling last time when I was waiting on you in his office. You controlled yourself admirably, kid.”

Dad may try to make light of it, but it had been humiliating, in retrospect, blowing up and ranting and raving at Santekka, stomping around his office while having a full-blown temper tantrum. I’m supposed to be too old to flip out like I did when I was a kid. God, at one point, I’d even petulantly shoved a stack of folders off his desk onto the floor. Not my best moment.

The older man had remained in his chair, calm and composed, listening careful until I’d worn myself out and flopped into my usual seat, pouting and glaring at him.

_“Well, Ben, why don’t we unpack this a little further?”_

Asshole _._

I fold my arms across my chest, glaring at my dad and making an exasperated noise. “He’s spent the last few months telling me how to replace negative thought loops, except he never told me how to tell a loop from an actual gut instinct.”

Dad’s non-plussed and scratches his jaw idly as he considers what I’ve said.

“To be fair, Ben, I don’t think that’s something that can be taught. Separating your feelings and your instincts isn’t like separating laundry. When it comes to all that, there’s no light and dark. It’s a catch-22.”

My feelings had screamed at me to get to Rey the moment I woke up. And I’d squashed them flat for what? To prove I was in control? To prove that negativity didn’t have any power over me? And for what?

My chair scrapes against the kitchen floor as I stand up from the table. I want to sound flippant, but I know I can’t manage that. I’m too wrapped up in these constant thoughts of failure. They blanket every part of me, muffling the confidence I have that things are going to work out.

Ever since Christmas, I’ve tried to ignore my fear, and Rey can’t even remember when I’d tried to tell her my concerns, she was so drowsy, and I haven’t had the courage since to try. I don’t think I can handle watching hope die in her eyes.

“Well, my instinct tells me that having an assault record is going to look like shit in front of a judge’s eyes. Let’s see how Santekka tries to coach me through that.”

+++

The numbers on the worksheet keep blurring. I don’t know if I’m tired or simply sick to death of looking at this mess.

My Calc 2 homework seems much harder this semester without Rey at my elbow telling me how it all works. I’m plenty smart, but Rey’s next-level with this stuff. After a few moments of staring at the same problem, I shove the paper aside and close my eyes.

The stereo is on, music playing, and my computer screen glows, showing a college website that I’d quickly abandoned after trying to get a sense of the majors offered. I still don’t know what I want to do with my life, and now I’m just reading about every major in alphabetical order to see if anything sounds remotely interesting. It’ll be March when the acceptance—or rejection—letters come in.

_She knows the human heart_

_And how to read the stars_

_Now everything's about to fall apart_

_I won't be the one who's going to let you down_

_Maybe you'll get what you want this time around_

_(the trick is to keep breathing)_

Fuck.

Come on, Shirley. Leave me what’s left of my wrecked soul, will you?. I reach behind me and stop the CD player. Rose had pressed Garbage’s _Version 2.0_ into my hands last month.

_“I swear, Ben. It’s life changing. You need this right now. Keep it as long as you want.”_

She wasn’t wrong. I’d liked their first album well enough, but this one had cracked open my heart, and I am not sure if Rose will be getting it back. I suppose I could just buy my own. Rose is a gleefully chaotic overachiever, and watching her with Rey and Paige and Finn, I’ve seen her furiously loving energy. And, I have to acknowledge, she has the best damn taste in music at Jakku High School. I get why Rey adores her.

I decide to call it quits for the night, no longer caring whether my Calc 2 homework is complete. Mr. Tarkin won’t be amused, but I don’t think he’s laughed since he watched the Hindenburg crash. Okay, maybe he’s not that old. Well, he might be. He looks like something undead that feasts on the souls of the young. He could be immortal, for all I know.

Actually, I hope not. I hope he chokes on a bag of dicks and dies.

AIM pings with a notification before can log offline. I sigh and click to open the message.

Ugh. Hux.

**HuxSupreme:** Solo. Was Rey back in school today? I thought she was out for good.

**xXBenOSXx:** Half-days to make up what she missed last semester.

**HuxSupreme:** People are saying all kinds of wild shit about her.

**xXBenOSXx:** People can go fuck themselves.

**HuxSupreme:** I figured as much.

**HuxSupreme:** You there? Anyway. I hope she’s okay or whatever.

Yeah, I’m not going to have a conversation with Hux about Rey. I don’t think he has any ill intent for once, but… no. Just no. He doesn’t get to know about Rey.

Another ping. I swear, they always come all at once. Does anyone in Jakku sleep? To be fair, I haven’t been sleeping well, lately.

**ImPOEssible:** Hey, man! So what do you think about that new girl, Tallie Lintra?

**xXBenOSXx:** Tallie? She is a human female who attends Jakku High.

**ImPOEssible:** Perfect, right?

**xXBenOSXx:** God, I hope you’re being ironic. I don’t even know with you anymore.

**ImPOEssible:** A little ironic? Anyway, she’s in my Chem class, and I think there’s some chemistry, if you get my drift.

**xXBenOSXx:** omfg. Aren’t you a little young for dad jokes?

**ImPOEssible:** Come on, man. Be supportive. We don’t all meet our soulmates in Driver’s Ed. I can’t be judged by your standard.

**xXBenOSXx:** I keep forgetting. I have to lower my standards for you.

**ImPOEssible:** Har har har. Hey—it was so great to see Rey. Do you think maybe we could all hang out this weekend? It wouldn’t tire her out too much? I could tell she was dragging at lunch time. Don’t tell her I said that.

**xXBenOSXs:** I would never tell her that. I like my balls where they are. She still gets tired pretty fast, but I know she’d really like to hang with everybody. Something low-key on Saturday? Maybe have everyone over at my house for pizza?

**ImPOEssible:** Sounds good, dude. Give me a time, and I’ll rally the troops. …can I bring Tallie?

Okay. God damn it. No one in Jakku sleeps. It’s official.

**88FStorm88:** I’m worried about Rey.

**xXBenOSXs:** …the free world is worried about Rey. You’re going to have to be more specific.

**88FStorm88:** Like, how’s she going to get around and stuff? Is she even going to be able to complete 11th grade?

**xXBenOSXx:** She’s probably going to have to do summer school to get her credits… Can I ask you not to bring this up with her? She’s self-conscious about everything. She just wants things to be normal.

**88FStorm88:** I won’t. I just… Rose and I… We want to help her, and we don’t know what to do. I get why she didn’t want visitors now. Rey was so kind, showing us the ropes at Jakku, studying with us, keeping us safe from Mr. Tarkin’s death glare… We want to do something for her.

**xXBenOSXx:** I get it. Honestly. Just be her friend. If everything goes right, my parents are going to get guardianship, and she can stay in Jakku and graduate with you guys next year.

**88FStorm88:** Oh man. I’m going to tell Rose that. …and she’s crying.

**xXBenOSXx:** Pizza at my house on Saturday? Poe’s probably bringing Tallie.

**88FStorm88:** So the entertainment is free? Poe and his lady loves… I live for it.

+++

I wish the home visit lady from DCW could see us now. Then she might understand our family better. Dad’s quietly drinking a beer and watching a cooking show, and Mom and Rey are flipping through a clothes catalog together, giggling and talking, shoulder to shoulder on the couch. I have calculus and physics homework to slog through, so Rey had kissed my cheek and ruffled my hair and left me sitting at the kitchen table.

My eyes keep glancing her way, and I know she can feel me watching her, so she gives me a little look and a blushing smile before turning back to my mother. Dad mutters something about too much butter in a recipe while squinting at the TV and shakes his head.

“I don’t think so. That whole dish is going to come out soggy if they do it like that. Don’t you think, kiddo?”

Rey laughs. “What’s wrong with more butter? Popcorn’s not even good until it’s drenched in butter.”

“Philistine,” he grumbles cheerfully.

This is what the DCW lady should have seen. Not that I think she would have wanted to.

Instead, she stiffly toured the house, making notes on her clipboard as she looked in every room, every corner. I’m not sure what she thought she might find. Human heads? An illegal ferret-breeding operation? Stolen furbies?

_“And there will be a room provided for Rey?”_

_Mom nods with an easy smile, and she leads the woman to our guest bedroom, which is furnished simply with a bed, dresser, desk, and side table, and lamp._

_“Yes, this will be her room. She’ll have to share a bathroom with our son. We already have some of her things here for her. We’re just waiting on her.”_

_“And it’s to be understood there’s no sharing of rooms between minors of opposite sex?” the DCW lady asks in a clipped tone, raising one eyebrow at my mother and making a pointed glance at me._

_“More than understood. A young woman needs a private space,” Mom replies smoothly, and she gives me a look that tells me I need to get downstairs and stop lurking. I can hear murmured conversation as I retreat, and I find Dad sitting in the living room, looking uncomfortable._

_He whispers in my ear as I sit next to him. “Jeeze, kid. We don’t have nothin’ to hide, and I’m roasting like a hog at a luau.” He sticks a finger in the collar of his shirt and tugs as if to illustrate his meaning, and I laugh._

_When Mom makes it down the stairs and back into the living room for more discussion, she looks like she’s considered just booting that woman down the stairs entirely, but she keeps everything so composed and friendly and professional, I decide then I’m going to have to ask her how she does that. I know my mom has a temper. What I need to know is how she takes charge of it._

_“Well, it’s easy to see your home is perfectly safe and adequate to house another person.”_

_Mom speaks politely, though I’m sure she’s never been so briskly informed that her household is ‘adequate’ before. “Thank you. What else can we do for you today?”_

_“I just have a few basic questions. Just to get a sense of your family dynamics and goals.”_

_Mom and Dad nod their assent, and they motion for the woman to sit down on the loveseat across from us. It’s awkward, lined up like a shooting gallery for this sharp-eyed woman wielding a clipboard. She straightens her glasses on the bridge of her nose and gives us a shrewd look._

_“How long have you known Rey?”_

_Dad speaks up. “Nearly a year. She was in Ben’s Driver’s Ed class. We started giving her rides home, oh, jeeze, back in February of last year.”_

_“And the nature of your relationship with her?” She glances at me directly this time, her eyes sharp, and I feel my face coloring._

_“She’s my girlfriend. We go to school together.”_

_“Mmmhmm. And how are things at school?”_

_“Um. Good. I get good grades. So does Rey. We study together a lot. She comes over to do homework, and then we eat dinner.”_

_“No behavioral issues at school?”_

_I hesitate and she senses it, eyes suddenly alert. I feel like she’s just stuck a pin through me, securing me to a specimen board._

_“Um, I had a suspension last year, but that’s it. Not even a detention since.”_

_She gives me a skeptical look, then returns her attention to her clipboard._

_“And why do you want Rey to join your family?”_

_Because she’s got the biggest heart of any person I’ve ever met? Because she’s a total menace with her haphazard culinary skills and eating habits? Because she’s hilarious but never cruel? Resourceful and determined?_

_Mom covers this question, fortunately. “Rey’s a special girl. I know my son is fond of her, but my husband and I are, too. She’s brought a lot of joy into our lives—she’s good-natured, intelligent, and funny. She deserves a good home where people will care about her well-being, and we do care. Deeply.”_

_“Uh huh.” The DCW lady doesn’t even look up as she takes her notes, launching into another question. I’m not even sure how much she hears, but she’s certainly writing plenty._

We’d been left feeling awkward and strained afterwards, and we’d all gone to separate corners of the household to decompress. I can barely function for fear of what’s to come. We’ve filed paperwork. We’ve done this home study visit. The background check should be completed soon.

I try to think of what Dr. Santekka would ask me to do. I try to break down my worry. Our last session had been better. I hadn’t shouted or knocked things over.

_What’s the worst-case scenario?_

_What’s the best-case scenario?_

_What’s the most likely scenario?_

Fuck.

I just don’t know.

+++

The next couple of weeks pass in a blur.

Rey’s cast gets removed, and she’s discouraged at how thin her arm is, how sore and stiff it is. The lean muscles from when we were doing boxing workouts together aren’t there anymore.

“Can’t just one thing on me work right?” she complains. “My brain’s still garbage, so why can’t I have two good arms? It’s only fair.”

I manage to kiss her out of her mood, pointing out the good things, like how she can put both arms around me again. Wickedly, I take both her hands, kissing them chivalrously before tugging them down to the front of my cargo pants, and I whisper in her ear that she’s got two hands for jerking me off, too, now.

That earns me a laugh and a playful shove that turns into us stripping each other bare and touching each other until we’re both moaning, and I pull Rey on top of me to ride me vigorously until she cries out, spasming in pleasure. She’s barely able to hold herself up as I grip her hips and thrust up into her until I come inside her with a gasping groan that vibrates through both our bodies.

“Oooh, Ben Solo,” she whispers as she finally collapses against my chest all sweaty, “You are very naughty. I was going to be a good little girl and take a nap, but no. You had to seduce me.”

I snort with laughter, giving her firm little ass a squeeze as I smile up at her face. “I can’t help myself. You’re very tempting.”

She touchers her lips to mine in a contented kiss, and I roll her over onto her back so we can snuggle together in my bed. I casually cup her breast and kiss her shoulder. I’ll never get tired of touching her, I think. My love.

“You still need to do homework,” Rey reminds me with a smile. “I shouldn’t stay here and keep you from studying.”

“I focus better when you’re with me.”

Rey does not seem entirely convinced, and she quirks an eyebrow at me sardonically.

“Mmmhmm. And how’d that first calc test go this semester?”

“Uuuuh. No comment.”

Her point proven, she gives me a smug look.

“Exactly. Why don’t we just snuggle a little bit, and then I’ll ask your mom to take me back to the facility.”

I can’t help but smile at her and nuzzle and kiss her cheek. “You taking care of me, Mrs. Solo?”

“As best I can, Mr. Solo,” she whispers. “Someone has to keep you on the straight and narrow.”

I growl a little and playfully bite her shoulder, and Rey laughs.

“So what do you think of Poe and Tallie?” she asks me, changing the subject and waggling her eyebrows, while I tug the blankets up over us cozily.

We’d had our friends over for pizza a couple of times, and each time, Poe had brought Tallie. She’d been wide-eyed at Poe’s exuberant storytelling, Finn’s loud, boisterous laughter, Rose’s energetic chatter. She’d sat closest to Rey, feeling a little safer, I think, with Rey’s quieter personality.

“I think she’s nice, but I didn’t think Poe would be so into a girl that shy. She’s barely said two words.”

“He’s sweet with her. He’s always smiling at her, and did you see him holding her hand?”

I laugh and capture her hands in mine and kiss them. “Must be serious, then. Hand-holding.”

“Ben! That’s a big deal for Poe. You know he’s a romantic at heart. Even if he does come across like Pepe LePew sometimes.”

“Does that make Tallie a frightened cat?”

Rey shakes her head, grinning. “No way. I can tell she likes him. He smiled at her once, and she _blushed_.”

“Ooooh, did she now?” I duck my head to kiss her warmly, cupping her face, smoothing my thumb over her cheek. “Maybe that is a good sign. I seem to remember a very shy girl, who blushed aaaaall the time. And look how that turned out.”

Rey giggles, nipping at my lower lip. “She’s not so shy now, is she?”

“Nope.”

+++

Mom’s lawyer is a brisk man named Mr. Rieeken, and he seems calm and efficient as he meets with us in his office.

“All the paperwork is in order. I know the state has completed their investigation; their findings are included in this folder. All that’s left now is to go to the hearing.”

He hands my mother a folder of the pertinent documents so we can have a copy of what’s to come. She opens it up briefly to scan.

“How is this going to go? No one’s on trial, so it’s not going to be _The Firm_ , I imagine.”

“You’re right. This is a hearing, not a trial. DCW will have the case worker and an attorney present—the attorney is there on DCW’s behalf, and the case worker is there to present DCW’s plans for Rey. They’ll give the history of her intake into the system, outline DCW’s plans for her, and then it’ll be our turn to petition the court.”

“And then the games begin?” Mom quips lightly. I can see she’s tense from the way she’s holding the folder in her lap. Dad covers her hand with his.

“Something like that,” Mr. Rieekan muses, leaning back in his chair. “Does Rey understand that she has a right to be in the court room during the hearing? She will need to contact her case worker. It’s important for her to be present. It isn’t required, but it’s her legal right. She’s old enough to look the judge in the eye and tell him what she wants. Frankly, this will be our strongest argument for her custody.”

Mom and Dad glance sidelong at each other and nod.

“Do we know who our judge will be for the hearing?”

“Ah, yes. Our original judge had a family emergency, unfortunately. We’ve been pushed over to Judge Enric Pryde’s docket.”

“Are you familiar with him?”

Rieekan shakes his head, a frustrated look crossing his face. “He’s one of the old guard. He likes certain DAs, provided they go to his church and play golf. I tried to finesse the scheduling to appear before Judge Mothma, but her docket was already overfull, and Rey’s time is up at the residential facility. We’ll just have to see.”

Mom and Dad suck in a tight breath. I find I don’t have the capacity to breathe for a minute or two.

+++

Rey looks like she’s going to throw up, she’s so nervous, sitting across from us in the courtroom. She fidgets endlessly, looking awkward and unhappy in the ill-fitting white, collared blouse and plain navy skirt. Those clothes don’t look like her at all, and I absently wonder where she got them.

I try catching her eye to give her an encouraging smile, and she curls her lips up in a ghost of a smile, but I see nothing but blind panic in her eyes. Mrs. Kandia looks annoyed already as she says something to Rey that Rey clearly doesn’t want to hear, and the DCW lawyer is on Rey’s other side, going through the stack of paperwork without so much as a glance at her.

Mr. Rieekan turns toward us and gives us a resolute look before speaking quietly.

“There shouldn’t be any surprises today. We have a reasonable case, and I think we all know how overburdened DCW is coming out of the holidays. They might be glad to have one less body to think about it. We know what they might have against us, too.”

I’d read over all the documents he’d given us at our last meeting. They know about me. What I did. Fortunately, I won’t speak today. Rieekan said I didn’t really need to, but I have an idea that he wants my mouth shut because I’m a liability.

Regardless, even though I’m not going to speak, Rieekan said it would be important for me to be at the hearing anyway to put a face with the paperwork. To show them I’m… well, that I’m not a monster. That I’m just a harmless kid. I don’t really know how to look harmless, but I’m trying.

Mom made me cut my hair, and now my ears are sticking out like satellite dishes, but she says I look presentable in my shirt and tie and jacket. Dad’s dressed the same and looking uncomfortable as hell, but he gives me a steadying glance. As if he has any control over how this is going to go.

We all rise when Judge Pryde enters the room. He’s a tall, slim man with hair the color of dark steel and blue eyes like chipped ice. He gives a business-like smile to Mrs. Kandia and a broader smile of recognition to the DCW attorney, a man named Quinn. Pryde barely glances our way, as if he’s already identified the people in the room who matter. After he clears his throat, we all sit down again, and I feel my mom reach for my hand to squeeze it.

My throat is so tight, I’m not entirely sure how it is I’m breathing.

In all, the hearing takes less than an hour.

After Mr. Quinn had introduced himself and stated clearly that he was there to represent DCW’s interest in one minor child, Rey Sands, Mrs. Kandia outlined the conditions in which Rey was living when remanded to custody, and then she detailed DCW’s plan of care for Rey.

It’s our turn after that.

Mr. Rieekan explains our petition. From there, he and Quinn and Pryde discuss. Rieekan’s right; a hearing is less a trial and more like a discussion panel. It’s formally informal. Informally formal. And just the same, for Rey and me, it feels like life or death.

Occasionally, my parents are invited to speak. Even more rarely, Rey is called upon, and she’s so nervous her voice is a squeaky croak. She isn’t dressed like herself. She doesn’t sound like herself.

Quinn and Pryde seem well-armed with the findings from the background check and the home visit, and whenever Rieekan states a positive intent, they’re ready with a question or a rebuttal.

Everything after that blurs in my mind. I can only remember snippets of conversation. It’s all a bad dream, flashing blue and grim.

_“…Ms. Sands has an excellent relationship with the Solo family…”_

_“…we have high expectations for guardians of minors under state care, and it has not escaped us that in 10 months of this so-called ‘excellent relationship’ the Solo family did not notice Ms. Sands had no one at home…”_

_“…to be fair, not one of her teachers or neighbors noticed, either…”_

_“…The Solos have already acted as parents to Ms. Sands’ behalf. They’ve clothed her, fed her, and taken her for medical care…”_

_“…there is some question as to whether Colonel Organa-Solo would be able to remain in Jakku for the remaining year and a half prior to the minor child’s aging out of the system…”_

_“…have already requested an extension on my orders to remain in Jakku for another two years…”_

_“…concerning relationship with the Organa-Solos’ teenage son…”_

_“…state does not condone sexual relationships between minors that are under their care…”_

_“…if I may speak? I would prefer to live with the Solos. I feel safe with them—I know they care about me...”_

_“…while admirable that you managed on your own for so long, you’ve also shown a lack of judgment, Ms. Sands, resulting in injuries that had the potential to be life-threatening…”_

_“…son has a prior record for assault, and that coupled with the ongoing personal relationship puts the minor child at serious risk for partner abuse…”_

_“…Ben wouldn’t hurt me! And I’ll have you know I was doing perfectly fine on my own. I don’t need DCW telling me what to do...”_

_“…Ms. Sands, please refrain from speaking out of turn…”_

_“…The state of North Carolina remains legally liable for the safety of the minor child, and there is too heavy a risk…”_

_“…the state of North Carolina has an obligation to see that children under its care are educated both academically and morally…”_

_“…Our household is a moral one, I assure you. Rey would come to no harm in our care…”_

_“…minor child participated in Ms. Sands’ ongoing scheme to hide the truth of her dangerous circumstances, which is hardly moral…”_

_“…we do understand your son had a violent outburst at school within the last year, leading to a suspension…”_

_“…exhibits patterns of aggressive behavior, with excuses being made by the parents…”_

_“…cannot recommend guardianship…”_

_“…the state of North Carolina hereby grants continued guardianship and custody to the Department of Child Welfare…”_

_“Fuck you! I don’t want this. You don’t know Ben, and you don’t know me! Fuck this court!”_

_“Young lady, if you think this outburst changes anyone’s mind…”_

_“Ben! Ben come back!”_

_“Ben, stop! Come back!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to [1999!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rblt2EtFfC4) We’re going to reylo like it’s 1999. You have NO IDEA how many times people played that song in 1999. 
> 
> I’ve looked up as much as I can on how court hearings go with state child welfare agencies, foster care, custody petitions, etc. There is not a lot of specific information, and it all varies by state. So, I read a lot, considered what I know from what friends who’ve been through this have told me, and… did my best. This is fiction. I’m not an expert. I gave it a half-assed attempt towards reality.
> 
> Admittedly, my personal musical tastes are more like Rose & Ben’s than Rey’s! Ben is listening to [Garbage – The Trick is to Keep Breathing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GwKtszQ8Ejo)
> 
> Behold. [A furby.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wUOAdC8lewk) They are demon fluff bots come to take our souls. I asked my husband, “Out of Poe, Finn, and Rose, who got a furby for Christmas in 1998?” The man did not hesitate to reply, “Rose. Definitely Rose.” I see no flaw in his logic.
> 
> Y’all have no idea how excited people were for that whipped cream bikini. 1999 was a different time. And yes, James Van der Beek was in it. So obviously, you know a Dawson’s Creek fan like Poe is waaaay on board. [Varsity Blues movie trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zhkun7sUeeY)
> 
> Bad to worse. Sorry, y’all. Hope you at least enjoyed the bits of fluff and smut I provided before wrecking hopes and dreams!
> 
> But starting with the next chapter, you’re all going to see a slightly different side of Rey.  
> Hint: [Fiona Apple - Criminal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFOzayDpWoI) and [Joan Jett – Bad Reputation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nO6YL09T8Fw)
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	46. speed check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. February 1999. Welcome to Niima. Rebel Rey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so numb.

After my outburst at the hearing, Mrs. Kandia amended my case plan to say I should only have supervised visits with Ben, Leia, and Han. Maybe I shouldn’t have slapped her folders out of her arms and stormed out of the courthouse to wait by her car, but I absolutely do not regret the furious look on her face.

And Ben. He wouldn’t look me in the eye at the end. He couldn’t.

When Judge Pryde read the decision, Ben’s face drained of color, turning waxy and despondent. His shoulders sagged so low I thought they’d disappear altogether, and he’d shoved backwards out of his seat almost violently, refusing to look at me. With a choked sound, he’d left the court room wiping furiously at his eyes.

I’d cried out for him, desperate tears streaming down my face, but Ben didn’t stop, leaving my soul hollowed out and aching for its other half, and then Han and Leia were hugging me, making promises they can’t possibly keep. To win an appeal. To take care of me.

I know they mean every word. I just know in my gut that it’s futile. Nothing matters now.

+++

I was warned depression might set in while I recovered from my concussion, and it’s surely here now along with the constant headache and the increased sleeplessness.

Right here with me in the Niima Christian Home.

_For wayward orphans_ , I add silently every time I see the sign on the front lawn. It’s a great way to let the whole neighborhood that a house filled with unwanted teenage girls live here.

Mrs. Kandia escorted me to school the day after the hearing to retrieve my records, and then she brought me here, full of bitterness and futile rage. I’d at least managed to complete my prior coursework with seriously mixed bag of grades, but at least I got my credits.

Technically, this group home isn’t supposed to be a punishment. It’s one of many group homes run by a church that DCW pays to house lucky little orphans like me. I’m _lucky_ , they tell me. Niima is one of the best homes. It’s clean and adequately staffed. The meals are regular. They’re strict, but that’s because obedience to their rules will teach us the discipline we need to survive on our own as adults. I try and fail not to roll my eyes when Mrs. Kandia tells me that.

“Hygiene!”

A fist raps aggressively against our door before swinging it open, letting it slam against the wall. The home staff wakes us up every morning at 6 a.m., room-by-room and stand outside the bathroom door while we shower, brush our teeth, and use the toilet. My roommate and I are on Level 1 privileges right now, which at least means the staff attendant isn’t _in_ the bathroom with us. That’s something that happens on Level 0, and I’m not keen on that concept.

Oh yeah. I have a roommate now. A sulky redhead named Mara.

She swings her feet, very nearly kicking me in the face as she hops down from the top bunk, and I give her a sour look. She’s nosy, and I’ve caught her picking through my things more than once. I have a locker for my few valuable items, namely my ring and necklace from Ben, so at least she can’t get to those.

We don’t talk much, Mara and I. What is there to say? How long you in for? Are you sad? Are you angry? I think the last two are a given, anyway. I don’t know how anyone wouldn’t be sad and angry in this place. It permeates everything. It weighs down every atom, every cell.

“Hurry it up in there!” the attendant barks, and Mara and I roll our eyes.

At least we’re in agreement that the morning attendants are the worst. They’re the ones who drew the short straw and cover the 1 a.m. to 9 a.m. shift, which dooms them to being exhausted and miserable all the time. So of course, they’re short-tempered and rude with us.

By 6:20 a.m., we’re done, and we’re escorted back across the narrow hallway, as if we’ll get lost along the way. Level 1 means we’re watched all the time. No TV, no music, no leaving the house without a staff attendant unless it’s to school, no personal phone calls except to our case worker or attorney, and no visitors on the weekends. With good behavior, we can “earn” our way to Level 2 or even Level 3, but they haven’t defined what counts as good behavior or how long that will take.

They do make it clear how many demerits it takes to be bumped down a level, however. The magic number is three, and already, I’m one demerit away from Level 0.

_“Ben?” I whisper urgently, cradling the phone to my face._

_It’s 3 a.m., and the lights are off throughout the house, except in the staff room where they hang out and catnap between bed checks. I think I’ve timed it alright. They check in two-hour intervals, and there won’t be anyone looking around until 4 a.m. I think._

_“Rey?” his voice is ragged and rough from sleep, but I hear him take a sharp breath. “Where are you? Why haven’t you called? I’m so sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to…”_

_His breath catches, and I hear a choke and a gulp, and I realize he’s crying on the other end, and every cell in my body aches for him. I want to wrap my arms around him and press a kiss to each of his beauty marks until he’s consoled._

_It had crushed me when he’d run out of the hearing, unable to look at me, too overwhelmed by the disaster that had upended our hopes. I hadn’t felt so alone since Maz died._

_What hurts me now is his pain._

_“We can talk about that later.”_

_He tries to speak, but I shush him. “Ben, please listen. They don’t let me use the phone yet; I don’t have permission. I’m working on it. I’ll figure something out. I’m at the Niima Christian Home. Write that down. I don’t know how long I have until I have to go back to bed.”_

_I hear a long breath, a long sniff, and I can practically feel his shoulders shaking as he tries to stifle his sobs._

_“Sweetheart, are you okay? I’m such an asshole. I can’t believe I left you like that. And I told you--I fucking told you--I’m not a good person. I’m not good enough to be with you. The judge said so.”_

_He’s breaking. All my sadness and bullshit, and he’s collapsing under it like a dying star, and he’s taking my heart with him. We’re living the nightmare now._

_“None of that’s true. None of it… Ben, do you hear me? Fuck that judge. He’s a dinosaur who doesn’t understand anything about you or me.”_

_“I’m going to come see you. I’ll find the address online, and I’ll come this weekend. I don’t care how far Niima is.”_

_“I’m not allowed visitors right now,” I warn him in a low voice. “I’m on level 1. No calls. No visits. I’m going to do my best to get around it.”_

_“I don’t understand. I thought you were going to a home…”_

_“Yeah, like, it’s a normal-looking house, but they’re really strict, okay? It’s run by a church, and it’s all fire and brimstone and consequences for every little thing.”_

_Too many rules. We stand at attention at the dining table until permitted to sit and eat. We clear our plates or accrue additional chores to atone for wastefulness. They check our backpacks when we enter and exit the house. We’re not allowed to leave our rooms at night or go to our rooms without permission during the day. We’re never to leave the house without a supervising adult. For failing to follow the rules, for backtalk and attitude, and failing to do our chores, we receive demerits._

_“This is my fault,” he says miserably, and I can hear him trying to catch his breath so he doesn’t cry._

_“Ben, I—” The lights flick on, and I wince at the sudden brightness. I don’t even know which staffer it is, and I don’t care. I whisper into the phone, “Ben, I love you. Gotta go.”_

_The attendant’s hand is under my arm and hauling me roughly to my feet from where I’m crouched before I know it, and the phone is pulled out of my hand and hung back up on the cradle._

_“Back to bed with you, Rey.” The voice is stern but not cruel, even as he gives me a little push to get me going back down the hallway._

_He frowns at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know you’re new here, but we don’t make excuses. You know you’re supposed to stay in your room until hygiene, and you know you don’t have phone permission yet. Two demerits.”_

_I nod in acknowledgement and turn to go in my shared room, but he clears his throat and gives me a pointed look. Right._

_“Yes, sir. Thank you for the correction.”_

_He nods, and I can return to my bunk._

_Fuck. Closer to Level 0 than not._

_I hate this place._

At least Ben knows where I am. I feel so trapped and bound in this new world with its endless list of restrictions that are so foreign to me. For all the loneliness after Maz’s death, for the yearning I felt to belong to a family again, I had become accustomed to my freedom. To making my own decisions, to going where I pleased, when I pleased. Now to be told when I should use the bathroom and to have my backpack checked for contraband every day, well, it’s terrible. I hate every bit of it.

What keeps me steady now is a folder Winter gave me the day I left the Jakku Youth Services facility. She’d pulled me aside when Mrs. Kandia had busied herself with paperwork in the office and put a folder in my hands that contained papers and glossy pamphlets for various state resources. Thanks to Winter, I’m slowly learning my rights. I do have them, even if no one cares to acknowledge them.

_“Rey, when you get a chance, read through these materials. These are from a child advocacy group, and this is the information they like to give to teenagers in foster care. There’s information about programs that can help when you turn eighteen. The other papers talk about your legal rights that no one can deny you,” Winter whispers to me in a low voice._

_I’ve never seen her so serious. Before, she’d always been warm and cheerful, weathering the mood swings as I recovered from my concussion, asking about my day, telling me about her new grandbaby. But now, the tall, white-haired lady had her eyes trained on me, making sure I’m understanding her._

_“Know your rights, and don’t be afraid to make phone calls to make sure you get what’s yours, alright? You’re not a little girl. You’ll have to fight for yourself.”_

_“Why didn’t Mrs. Kandia give me something like this?” I ask her, opening the folder curiously._

_“It’s not out of malice. DCW is about managing as many bodies as they can with the greatest efficiency. Things get lost in the shuffle. My group exists to make sure you know your rights so you don’t get left behind.”_

_I give Winter a tight hug, speaking softly, “I’m going to miss you. I wish I could stay here.”_

_She pats my back with motherly warmth, the seriousness fading from her face in place of her usual easygoing smile. “My home number is in the folder. You give me a call whenever you like, okay?”_

Thanks to Winter, I know my rights. Mrs. Kandia is required to see me once a month, and I can call her whenever I want. If I can’t reach her, I can call her supervisor, or the director of DCW, or anyone right up the food chain until I get someone on the phone who will listen. And when I get a lawyer assigned to me, I can call them whenever I want, too.

No one can touch me or insult me. No one can deny me food as punishment. They can’t deny me from going to school or joining a club. They can’t deny me access to my money—and after the sale of my trailer, and the death benefit checks for my father that now aren’t being spent on rent and groceries, my bank account is rather full right now. I’ve already mentally earmarked all of that for emergency funds. They also can’t deny me my driver’s license. They can refuse to let me drive, but I have a right to get licensed as soon as a doctor fully clears me.

They _can_ deny me personal phone calls if they feel they’re detrimental to my well-being. They can deny me visitors for the same reason. They can deny me permission to leave the house without supervision. And of course, since the Solos were put on the restricted visit list, I can’t leave with them until Kandia lifts the restriction. I’d have to be on the elusive Level 2 to get a visitor, anyway.

The big problem I have now is that the Niima Christian Home can define “detrimental” any which way they please.

+++

In front of Niima High School, we jump out of the school van. There are eight of us who live in the home—Callista, Jaina, Bria, Qira, Adi, Nomi, Mara, and me—but there’s no sense of solidarity. The moment our feet hit the sidewalk, we scatter away from the van so prominently labeled Niima Christian Home and from each other. It’s an unspoken rule that we’re never to talk about our living situation on school grounds if we can help it. Rolling up in that rust bucket van is as much advertisement to our collective situation as any of us can handle.

It had been a long, boring weekend at the group home. I’d slogged through my chores, scrubbing the bathroom I shared with Mara and stripping down all the bed linens for laundry collection. My head was aching after all the activity and the smell of the cleaning chemicals, and I was desperate for an hour or two by myself and a couple of Tylenol. It doesn’t take long to get the gist that the staff doesn’t care about my recovery.

_“You need to stay in the living room and get to know the other girls. Antisocial behavior won’t earn you any points,” the staffer tells me, giving me a little push back towards the living room._

_She shouldn’t be touching me. I make a mental note to write that down in the leatherbound journal Leia and Han gave me. I give her a surly look and find a chair in the corner to curl up in. I don’t really want to know any of these girls, and the throbbing pain in my head is only growing worse by the minute._

_“Aw, why so sour, new girl?” Mara asks me, looking up from her magazine._

_I shrug. I know what Mara is. She’s going to pick at me until she gets a reaction. She’s no better than Snap or any of his miserable friends back at Jakku High._

_Callista and Jaina give each other a wary look and depart to the kitchen to get some water._

_“I thought you were told to be social?” she reminds me with a smirk._

_“I have a headache, and I need to take a nap before it gets worse, and I’m not allowed. Does that answer your question?” I snap at her._

_She holds her hands up defensively. “Yeah, fine, sheesh. You don’t have to be such a bitch.”_

_I shrug again. It’s shocking, I realize, how little I care about making a good impression on any of these people. Not one of them gives a damn about me, and I sure as hell don’t give a damn about them. We all have our own problems, and I intend to keep it that way._

I think, rather suddenly, as I start down the sidewalk leading down to the campus buildings, that I’m not going to stick around school today. Another day of battling the way the tiny print in the textbooks makes my eyes swim and my head split doesn’t appeal to me in the slightest. The more my eyes swim, the harder it is to focus, and the more impossible it becomes to even complete a worksheet. The constant noise of fellow students chattering and shouting and sharpening their pencils in the noisy electric sharpener on the teachers’ desks doesn’t help, and by mid-day, everything’s a jumble.

By the end of my first day at Niima High last week, I was so tired and stressed out, I kept going down the wrong hallway again and again trying to find my way outside to the pick-up loop. The staff member driving the van and all the other girls had been fuming at the delay, and I’d been roundly scolded. At least it hadn’t resulted in a demerit.

At Niima High, there are no helpful faces. There’s no one like Winter to take my arm and steer me back on course. I’ve been more careful since getting turned about and stupidly lost that first day, and I’ve been careful not to do it again. I write down reminders in my notebook. I go slower. I breath more. I know I’m on my own. I have to stay calm and focus.

But that doesn’t matter today. Other plans are bubbling up in my head. There’s nothing I need or want at Niima High School, so I walk towards the gymnasium, looking like any other student who might be on their way to P.E. It’s at the far edge of the school grounds, and if I time it right, I can be off campus and down the block before the bell rings or a teacher notices me. I look like any other poor kid in a rural high school with my shabby sweater and jeans with ragged hems and no one pays me much mind as I squeeze through a gap in the fence.

+++

Niima’s a small town an hour outside of Jakku and barely a tenth the size, way out on the edge of the county. It’s more churches than I’d through possible for such a small population and a McDonald’s, a gas station, a bank, a library, and a tiny grocery store, and that’s about it. I don’t know what exactly it is people do for a living out here, to live in such a small place that seems to have so little opportunity. Suddenly, Jakku doesn’t seem so bad anymore.

I’m not exactly sure about the layout of Niima, but I turn a couple of blocks straggling between the edge of the road and the water retention ditch, and I find my way to the grocery store, and more importantly, the pay phone out front.

I dump in a quarter, dial, and wait.

As soon as he picks up, his voice offering an uncertain hello in response to the unfamiliar number, I practically gasp his name, fingers clutching the phone receiver even tighter.

“Ben! It’s me. Are you at school?”

“Rey?” I hear a hitch of excitement in his voice, and my heart jumps in my chest painfully. It’s the best and worst I’ve felt in days.

He lowers his voice, and I can practically see him flanking away from the other students in the courtyard to find a more secluded spot. “I’m at school. The bell’s about to ring for first period. I thought you weren’t allowed to make calls?”

“Oh, um, I’m at a pay phone. Uh… I know this is last minute and all, but can you come get me?” I can’t control the desperation in my voice. I know I shouldn’t be asking this of Ben, but there’s this urgent, hysterical part of me silently crying, _“Please, please, please come get me, Ben. I’ve been here less than a week, and I need out.”_

“What? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” he asks, confused.

“Um, yeah, technically… But, I’d rather see you. C-can you skip school and come get me in Niima? I need to get out of here today before I go crazy. I need someone to talk to. I need _you_.”

I feel something frantic beating in my chest like a trapped bird. _Please, Ben. Please_.

“Rey, my parents… I promised them…”

“Ben, please. _Please_. I hate it here so much. There’s so many rules, and I’m already one demerit from Level 0 because I called you the other night, and they’re not listening to me when I’m saying my head hurts. No one here cares about me, and it’s so lonely.”

I hear the hesitation. I can feel his hesitation. This is against the rules. His parents’ rules. The state’s rules. The home’s rules. And he’d promised not to lie or hide things anymore. But the darker part of me, the hungry, sad, angry part threatening to consume me, considers that he’d also promised to take care of me, and I need this. I need him.

“Ben, I love you. I can’t do this without you,” I whisper, and I rub at my eyes to keep from crying in such a public place. I’m desperate to feel his arms around me, for him to tell me everything’s going to be okay.

There’s a long pause. I know he’s fighting with himself.

He exhales a pained sigh. “Alright. Okay. Hold tight. Where are you? Do you have a safe place to wait?”

I bite my lip to keep from exhaling a wry laugh. That’s Ben, alright. Always worried about my safety.

“I’m going to go to the library. I’m sure I can make myself scarce in there. Niima Public Library on Main. There’s about three major streets in this town. Shouldn’t be hard to find.”

+++

The elderly librarian with the elaborately bedazzled cardigan and bifocals perched on the tip of her nose is scanning in books with such focus she doesn’t even look up when I walk in the door and bustle past the front desk to a lounge area towards the back.

Weariness washes over me as soon as I sit down. I haven’t done that much walking in months, and I’m glad to sit. Knowing I managed to make it this far on my own without getting lost, without having a dizzy spell… I’m proud of myself, even as I close my eyes and try to breathe through my exhaustion. I just need a moment.

When I feel more myself, I pull out my textbooks and my binder from my backpack. I’m a month behind in every class, and I don’t know how I’m going to catch up.

I stare at it all for a long moment.

There’s a part of me that wonders if any of it matters. I don’t know where I’ll be next week, next month, or next year. I’m not even in the right classes, and nothing makes sense as the teachers’ words crash over me, period after period.

It probably doesn’t matter.

I put it all away, and I rest instead.

When Ben arrives a little over an hour later, he’s frantic, looking every bit like he ran here all the way from Jakku, he’s breathing so hard. His face is red, hair wild, and with every gasp, his shoulders strain against the shoulders of his hoodie.

My eyes devour every inch of him, and without a second thought, I launch myself into his arms. He squeezes me so tight I can hardly breathe. After a long moment, I touch his face briefly, and he leans into it like it’s exactly the balm he needs to heal his heartache.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper.

He nods, kissing the palm of my hand, eyes tender and serious.

We race out of the library together, hand-in-hand, the librarian looking up startled from her perch behind the front desk, and soon enough, we’re in his Wagoneer, radio on, and he’s pulling out on the road.

I roll down the window to feel the cool air on my face, glad to watch Niima fade out of view.

_I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend_

_You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in_

_And if you do not want to see me again_

_I would understand_

_(I would understand)_

It’s terrifying. It’s freeing.

I guess this makes me a runaway.

When Ben turns to me from the driver’s seat as we reach a crossroad, his face an exhilarated blaze. “Where to?”

“Somewhere that isn’t Niima,” I say with a little smile. “Somewhere without lots of people.”

“Rey… my parents are going to have a meltdown when I tell them what we’ve done.” His voice is worried, fretful, as he turns left onto the highway. “I am going to tell them.”

“I know. I’m sorry. You can tell them the truth, that this is my fault, that I begged you,” I tell him, wry and unhappy.

Han and Leia don’t deserve this from me or him, and I’m sorry for it. Sorrier than they know, I think. But there doesn’t seem to be much help for it. How am I supposed to survive any of this without Ben?

I look at my hands, hating how upset Han and Leia are going to be with us. And this time, it’s definitely my fault. My neediness lured Ben, and the guilt of it claws at my ribs.

“Ben, I’m… I’m sorry. Can you forgive me for putting you in this position? I needed to see you, and this was the only way. I was hoping… I was hoping we could figure out a way to stay in touch, even with all the rules at my stupid group home.”

Ben takes a long moment to reply, and when he does, he sounds wary.

“We have to be careful today. I’m not supposed to be with you unsupervised, let alone skipping school to see you.”

He checks his rearview mirror as if he’s expecting cop cars and helicopters at any moment. I seriously doubt anyone’s even on to us yet, frankly.

“I guess that makes us a couple of rebels,” I say, trying to make my voice light, but instead it sounds flat, terse.

“Yeah. That’s us,” he snorts. “I had a Calc 2 test today, and I’m going to have to deal with Mr. Tarkin to get a makeup date for it.”

I groan in commiseration. “Ugh. Sorry. He’s the worst. Hopefully no other tests today?”

Ben shakes his head, and when we hit another crossroads he turns right, taking us out of the county. We stop at a weather and time beaten country store and buy sandwiches and snacks and drinks and put more gas in Ben’s car. After another half hour, Ben pulls off the highway and follows increasingly smaller roads until we’re in the woods, and he pulls off the road and into the trees.

“Looks like a good place to dump a body and be rid of an inconvenient girlfriend,” I tell him wryly.

“Not funny,” he grumbles, giving me an exasperated look. I gather that between making him break promises to his parents and the stress of my existence, dark humor is not welcome. “This is near where my dad took me fishing earlier this year. I figured we couldn’t go to Jakku or stay in Niima, and we don’t want people wondering why we’re not in school, so…”

“I know, I know,” I tell him in a huff.

I guess our little escape counts as truancy, which strikes me as a weird thought. We could be arrested. Just for this.

We sit in silence in the parked Wagoneer. The adrenaline of breaking away from the world has already started to turn into a rising tension between us. Ben’s hands remain clenched on the steering wheel, and he turns to me with a glance so acutely pained it takes a chunk out of my soul.

He speaks suddenly, words bursting forth in a low, distressed voice, “I’m sorry about the hearing. I’m sorry I was such a fuck up in Chandrila. Rey, I left you standing there, crying your heart out because I’m a fucking coward. I know you said you forgive me, but I don’t see how you _can_.”

The words tumble quickly as if he can’t say them fast enough. He even closes his eyes as if it’s too much to bear. His honey-colored eyes search mine intently, and I can see the tremor in his hands. He’s been holding this back for far too long. My poor, sweet Ben.

“Ben, it’s not your fault. That judge, he didn’t want to do any real thinking. He wanted us out of there as fast as possible. What happened in Chandrila shouldn’t have mattered,” I respond firmly.

“But it fucking did, okay?” his voice rises angrily, and I see him clench his fist. Instinctively, I grab his hand and hold it tight, forcing him to look at me again, trying to anchor him with my touch. “Everything I touch turns to shit. I hurt people even when I’m _trying_ to be good. Fuck, Rey, my parents thought I didn’t love them or trust them because of our lies. My mom’s been so understanding with you, but she raised holy hell with _me_ about it.”

“But—”

“No. You need to hear this. I’ve done everything for love of you. I’m here now, breaking trust with my parents again because of you. And in the end, I couldn’t even help you, because of my own bullshit, my own stupid, toxic issues. What am I supposed to do about all of that, huh?”

The frustrated, angry words pour out of him in a fiery stream. I flinch under the implied accusation.

_If not for me..._

I suspect he’s been holding back for days and days. For months, even. My fault. So much of this is my fault, and Ben’s being punished for it. The self-loathing is real at this moment. So real. I wish I could fix it. Fix him.

“Everything I do hurts someone I love. I’m useless and pathetic,” he blurts out.

My hands tighten on his, but he pulls away from me, miserable, leaving me clasping at nothing until I curl my hands into the sleeves of my sweatshirt.

“Ben, that’s not true. You’re so brave and good. You have so much love in you. It’s awful, but sometimes it’s impossible to avoid hurting people…”

He gives me a heated look that causes me to clamp my mouth shut.

“How can you say that after what I did to you? For fuck’s sake, I left you there, crying and begging me to come back, because I was so ashamed of myself after the judge’s verdict. I promised to take care of you, and I couldn’t even look you in the eye.”

I tentatively reach a hand to touch his face, and he shivers slightly. I can feel him breaking apart as he talks, each word crumbling another piece of his strength and composure into dust.

“Call your parents.” My voice is low, serious. I can’t keep watching Ben break. It’s not fair to him.

“What!?”

“Call your parents and tell them you’re with me,” I urge him. “I don’t want you to lie to them.”

“I… Rey, they’ll have to report you. Us.”

“Doesn’t matter. Maybe they’ll give you a head start to drop me off back in Niima.”

“It does matter. I don’t want to get you in trouble,” he says seriously. Ben covers my hand with his, his eyes yearning as he looks at my face. There’s that pull again. From my heart to his.

“I’m already in trouble for nothing. Might as well be in trouble for something,” I tell him with a little laugh, arching my eyebrow at him with the full force of my irony.

He exhales a breathy sound, the slightest laugh, and he leans in to kiss me lightly.

“Rebel,” he whispers against my lips. I feel the stress begin to drain out of him and smile.

I return the kiss tenderly, curling a hand around the back of his neck to keep him close, nuzzling along his jawline with light little kisses. When I get close to his ear, I give him a suggestive nip, and it occurs to me that talking isn’t making either of us feel any better. Maybe something else would.

He groans, pulling back slightly. “Rey, we shouldn’t…”

“Why not?” I ask him, toeing off my shoes and unbuttoning my jeans and sliding them over my hips.

“We really need to talk—I love you, but…”

“I don’t want to talk right now. And for the record, ‘ _I love you, but…_ ’ is a terrible thing to say,” I say bluntly, making him wince. I slide out of my panties, and I shiver slightly at the feel of the cold air on my skin.

Ben still hasn’t moved a muscle, and he seems frozen as I climb over the center console and straddle his lap in the driver’s seat.

“Look at me,” I urge him gently, and he glares at me, his plush lips flattening in an angry line. His hands slowly touch my thighs, sliding over them to grip my hips, his fingers pressing hard enough leave bruises.

I touch my forehead to his, lowering my voice to a whisper, “Ben, I love you more than anything. I’m a little lost right now, and I don’t know what my plan is anymore, and I don’t know what to say.”

“We… we just need to last seventeen more months. That’s how many until you turn eighteen. And then we’ll get married,” he says quietly. “I don’t know what else I can do until then.”

My laugh is a small, withered thing.

“I’m not going to last seventeen months in that place, Ben,” I whisper. I reach between us and I slowly unbutton and unzip his jeans, and I feel his breath quicken. “They’re never going to let me see you, let alone call you. Can you help me forget that for a little while?”

He shifts his hips as I push his jeans open and reach in to stroke at his cock through his boxers. I can already feel him thicken at the light, kittenish strokes of my fingertips. When I touch my lips to his again, I feel the tremble of hesitation, and then he growls into my mouth, kissing me like a man starved.

His lips are rough as they move over mine, and he bites my upper lip less than gently, making me gasp. Big hands knead my ass as he trails his mouth to my neck, biting hard then sucking a bruise, marking me for all to see. A fragile dam has burst in him, and any restraint he’d wanted to show is gone.

My hands grow bolder, and I pull his hardening erection free from his boxer shorts, pausing to pull away from his aggressive kisses to lick my palm, and return to stroking him from base to tip.

“Fuck, Rey…” he groans, closing his eyes and throwing his head back, his assault on my mouth momentarily forgotten. I pump my hand slowly, coaxing him harder and harder, circling my thumb over the weeping purplish head before slicking him with his precum.

Something feral awakens in me, matching his own need, and I kiss him roughly before sucking an angry-looking bruise above his collarbone. The gasp he makes spurs me on, and I mouth on his neck until I find another spot to mark. His hips jerk up and he fucks into my hand, gripping me hard. He manages to still himself, and he’s panting hard, like he’s just run a 5k.

“I need to fuck you,” he groans, and I nip sharply at his lower lip before I lift up slightly to poise myself over his cock, notching him at my core. I haven’t come, and usually Ben has me more riled up than this, but I don’t care. I want him. I need to feel him inside me, and if it hurts a little as I press down, letting his cock stretch me open, I don’t care. It feels real. It feels relevant.

We both shudder as I sink onto him slowly, and I bury my face in the curve of his neck as I moan, shifting to adjust to the sheer size of him. It’s a relief to be so _full_ after the waves of rage and grief had left me numb over the last week.

I heave a shaky breath, and I feel Ben kiss the side of my head, a hand rubbing over my back.

“You okay?” he rasps, and I nod in response, kissing the side of his neck, over to his jaw, and then to his warm, hungry mouth. His lips bruise against mine, and my hands clutch his shoulders as I begin to ride him slowly, getting used to the movement. The friction as he pushes back into me is pure euphoria, and I close my eyes with a gusty exhalation.

“You feel so good, Ben,” I moan.

Ben’s hands guide my hips as I move, but after a moment, he groans, “I need to go harder…”

His hands, firm before, tighten like steel clamps on my hips, and the next time I rise, he pulls me down on his cock roughly, while pushing up into me. The impact makes me gasp, but I take it, I take all of him, and I begin riding him more vigorously, and he thrusts with an intensity that makes me see stars when his big cock knocks into secret places inside me that I hadn’t known were there.

The windows of the car fog up, and where it was chilly before, I’m feeling sweaty, and I brace a hand on the roof of the Wagoneer, the other on his shoulder as he slams up into me, his groans growing louder.

“Just like that, Ben,” I moan, writhing. “Just like that.”

It’s on one aggressive thrust that makes me gasp, that my body goes rigid and I spasm with pleasure, my tight inner muscles clenching around him almost violently, and I practically scream.

Ben moans along with me, and he’s just as quickly gone, jerking his hips in ragged thrusts as he spills his come into me before his arms and legs fall limp. I collapse against him, and we hold each other like survivors of a shipwreck, washed ashore.

+++

Lunches eaten, Ben listens intently as I tell him what my new life is like as we sprawl in the back of the Wagoneer. His anger and upset at himself, at me, at the world, is washed out of him, at least for now. I feel calmer, too, if a little drained. We’d taken a walk in the woods to stretch our legs, but after the adrenaline rush of the morning, I’d felt unsteady and Ben had coaxed me to lie down and rest, curling his big body around me protectively.

“It’s all consequences, no rewards. The other girls say we make up for the demerits with a week or two of good behavior. It’s so arbitrary, Ben. I’ve got one demerit before I hit Level 0, and, um… I think this little adventure probably means I’m going down a level. Now I get to have an audience in the bathroom every day. I won’t be allowed to be in a room by myself.”

I groan, and he strokes my hair, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he speaks, “What’s it like living in a house full of people? I know you’re not used to that.”

I wrinkle my nose at him.

“I don’t like my roommate. She’s a snoop, and I’m worried she’s going to steal from me. As for the others, we’re all just trying to get out of there. They have their own problems.”

“What do you have to do to get to Level 2 so you can make phone calls and have visitors?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know. It’s completely made up. So… let’s say I’m Level 0 as of today. I will have to behave perfectly for at least three weeks to hit Level 1. Then I’ll need to be perfect for another three weeks to hit Level 2. That means if I play my cards right, I can call you sometime in March.”

I can’t keep the bitter, resentful note out of my voice. With Ben, at least, I can be honest, and I sulk openly.

“Can you try to follow the rules?” Ben gently laces his fingers through mine, snuggling closer under the blanket. “Are they really that harsh?”

“Yes and no. It’s just… there’s a rule for everything. Everything is so rigid and structured. They don’t even like it when the girls are trying to have fun and laugh together, because of the noise,” I complain. “They say we need to learn discipline to be independent, but I don’t think their rules are teaching us anything except how to be thoughtless robots. I feel half-crazy already, and it’s been less than a week, Ben.”

I prop my chin on Ben’s shoulder, giving him an ironic smile. “There’s something about that place that makes me want to break all the rules. It doesn’t matter if I’m Level 0 or Level 3. They’re still going to control every moment of my day, one way or the other.”

I nuzzle against Ben’s shoulder, enjoying the smell of him. Boy and sex and soap and his deodorant. He’s so comforting next to me, large and solid. I feel like I could curl into his side and hide and be protected always.

I can hear the hum of thought, and Ben’s silent for a long moment, eyes thoughtful as he watches my face, carding his thick fingers through my hair.

“If you don’t think you can make it there, what’s going to happen?” His voice is worried, and I don’t have to look directly at his face to see the etched concern.

“They’d just send me to another group home. Teenagers don’t usually get single family housing. Winter gave me a stack of papers about my legal rights. I’ve been studying those, trying to come up with ideas, but I really need to talk to a lawyer. DCW is supposed to provide me with one.”

“Who, that guy from the hearing? He’s not—”

“I’m supposed to have one of my own, and not one who is representing DCW.” I groan slightly, feeling the growing ache across the back of my skull, and Ben looks at me with concern, but I wave a hand and dig in my pocket for a packet of Tylenol.

“Just a headache.”

Ben frets and kisses my temple, and I give him a little smile before dry-swallowing my pills.

“Anyway, that’s my next step. Harass Kandia into getting me an appointment with a lawyer. I’m allowed to contact her as much as I want.”

Ben snorts, “You’re going to harass her into an early retirement.”

I shrug. “Not my problem.”

+++

Ben pulls away, breathing hard, and he kisses me warmly, a relaxed, satisfied smile crossing his angular face. Our lazy day of cuddling and talking had resulted in a far more tender session of lovemaking the second time around. It had been cramped in the back of the Wagoneer, especially for Ben and his long legs, and a little uncomfortable for me due to lack of cushion, but we’d managed admirably, in my opinion. I’d had Ben’s tongue and fingers to distract me, after all.

“We need to get you back to Niima before school lets out,” Ben murmurs, kissing my cheek and throwing a leg and an arm over my body, “I’d steal you away every day if I could, but we need to be careful about getting caught.”

I feel so safe under the weight of his limbs, but a fretful memory from earlier bubbles up.

_I’ve done everything for love of you. I’m here now, breaking trust with my parents again because of you._

I frown slightly, hesitating before I speak, hiding my eyes from him. Ben always sees too much.

“Ben, I don’t care about the group home’s rules, and I don’t care what they do to me… but I don’t want you to get in trouble. Don’t ruin your life for me.”

“Hey—you asked me to come get you,” he says indignantly, giving me a little nudge with his body.

“I know… I’m sorry and I’m not sorry.” A laugh escapes me, and I turn in his arms. “What I mean is, you are _so_ close to graduating. You’ll find out what colleges you got into next month. Don’t… don’t do anything that’ll mess any of that up. Promise me you’ll put yourself first.”

Well, he certainly doesn’t like that, I muse, and he gathers me more tightly in his arms, frowning.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“From _you_ , Ben. You said it yourself. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be lying to your parents, risking your grades, or risking getting caught for truancy. It’ll break my heart if I’m the reason anything bad happens to you. It already hurts knowing your mom and dad are going to be upset about this.”

Ben pouts and makes an impatient noise. “Fine. I won’t do anything that’ll jeopardize graduation or college, but you need to promise me the same. I see it in your eyes that you don’t want to play along with the group home’s rules, but don’t let that distract you from finishing school.”

I make a face at Ben, wrinkling my nose.

“Niima High School doesn’t even offer Calc 2. They put me in Algebra 1 because that was the only math class with an opening. I took that in middle school, Ben!”

“C’mon, rebel. Just do the work and get your course credits. Graduate on time if you can,” he urges me. “I know you want to defy everybody, but at least do that.”

I don’t like it, but he’s right. I do need to graduate from high school, no matter what. Maz would skin me alive if she knew I was skipping, if she knew I was prepared to wreck my GPA out of bullheaded defiance. At least I can rationalize that it’s not the school’s fault. I still don’t know how committed I am to following any of the rules at the group home.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Deal.”

We give each other grumbly looks, and then Ben laughs, pressing kisses all over my face.

+++

The other girls give me side-eye as I climb into the group home van after them and take my seat, my face carefully neutral. Admittedly, I’m feeling a little headachey and tired after my day, but I’m trying to pull on whatever bravado I can manage. Mara looks me up and down with a critical eye, zeroing in on my hickeys and my slightly swollen lips, and she smiles slyly.

“You are in soooo much trouble, roomie. You know the school has to call the group home if you’re not in class, right?”

Fuck. Mara and I are in a couple of classes together, so I guess she’d have noticed my absence. It’s not like Niima High is huge. It’s hard to be anonymous here.

Well. No risk, no reward.

I give Mara an untroubled glance and shrug my shoulders nonchalantly.

“Had some things to do.”

She snorts. “Apparently.”

+++

“Miss Sands, you are in a world of trouble. We were told you were a decent, god-fearing girl who never got in trouble. What are you up to? Where were you all day?” Mrs. Daala asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

I’m seated across from the group home manager, and her broad oak desk is cluttered with dirty coffee cups and paperwork between us. The moment the van had parked in front of the house, the driver had perp-walked me to the low-slung red brick administrative building behind the church next door to the group home. I’ve earned a whole sit-down meeting with the big cheese herself, and she has been shouting for the better part of the last twenty minutes. She isn’t helping my headache, which is wrapping around my skull like a vise. When I don’t concentrate, my vision blurs, and sometimes there’s two of her, and one is more than enough.

“Enjoying the sights. Niima’s a wonderful town,” I reply blandly, enjoying the frustration in her expression. If there’s anything I’m not going to do, I’m not going to incriminate Ben. No way, no how.

I know I’d promised Ben I’d try… but there’s something about the overly pious look on this woman’s face that makes me want to push my limits. I’ll save my energy for graduating from high school.

“Who were you with?”

“No one.”

Ooh, she doesn’t like that answer. She shifts her weight restlessly.

“No one gave you those hickeys?”

“Oh, these?” I shrug. “That’s none of your business.”

Her eyes fire up with laser beams of hatred.

“You are mistaken, young lady. While you are a resident of this home, you will follow our rules, and you will adhere to our values. What you do while living here is absolutely my business.”

“Can we get to the point?” I sigh loudly, impatiently.

“The point?” she says in disbelief at my bluntness.

“What’s my punishment? The sooner you tell me, the sooner I can leave.”

It’s all they care about, after all. Finding reasons to punish us. Keeping us secluded from the world. Making sure we don’t have a chance to form bonds and leave.

“Well, welcome to Level 0 for starters. And you can expect a lot more chores over the weekend. Say goodbye to your privileges.”

Right. I had so many of those. I nod briskly and stand up.

My voice is blasé as I say, “Thanks. See you later.”

“Excuse me? I haven’t dismissed you. I believe you owe me an apology! Girls have been thrown out of this group home for less. This is an upstanding refuge for Christian girls, and we are not going to tolerate promiscuous behavior. You should be grateful we’re giving you another chance!”

“Lucky me.”

“Where is your gratitude? Apologize right now!” she yells, standing up to glare at me, planting her hands on her desk.

“I won’t,” I hiss at her through clenched teeth.

These people took my freedom.

I’m not going to thank them for the loss.

I flip her off and walk towards the door.

“That’s another demerit, Rey!”

I pause and look over my shoulder, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Are you telling me I’ve hit negative levels now?”

“Try me, Rey. I can make your life very unpleasant.”

I snort, and I walk back to her desk and plant my hands on it, feeling a wellspring of aggression flow through me.

“My life is already unpleasant. Short of violating state law, there’s nothing left you can do to me. And don’t think I’m not taking notes.”

That shuts her up right quick, her big mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. I’ve read Winter’s materials. I know how far she can take a punishment.

“If you read my intake records properly,” I inform her casually, “you’d see that I’m supposed to be signed up for therapy for my concussion. You’d also see how your staff violates the medical advice given for my recovery—I need rest, not extra chores.”

She manages to gather her wits and looks at me shrewdly. Her voice is clipped as she says, “Your health was good enough for you to skip school and behave like a trollop.”

They aren’t supposed to verbally abuse us, either.

“Oh, I don’t get tired on my back,” I taunt with a smirk, enjoying the outrage in her eyes. She’s so angry she’s turning purple at this point.

“Get out,” she hisses at me, pointing at the door. She’s vibrating, she’s so angry.

“Great talk. Thanks,” I snark, and I flounce out the door where there’s an appropriately shocked-looking staff member waiting outside to walk me back to the house.

As I leave, I hear the manager muttering and picking up a phone, and I can only guess she’s going to call Mrs. Kandia and let her know I won’t be winning any Orphan of the Week prizes.

Oh darn.

In my head, I think I can see Maz smiling, seated in her old recliner, nodding her approval as she crochets.

_"Don’t let them mess you about, child. Don’t let them take the fight out of you.”_

I won’t, Maz. I’ll never let them win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to all my readers for the angst I unleashed on you last time. We’re not out of the woods yet, but I hope this chapter was more fun, at least, because Rebel Rey is in the house! She played it safe for years, and now she’s living exactly the life she did not want. She’s not going to pretend to be happy for anyone’s sake.
> 
> Lyrics are from [Third-Eye Blind -- Jumper](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gRYZijLZR-Q)
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	47. soft shoulders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. February 1999. Consequences. Conversation with Poe. Church. An idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m halfway back to Jakku when I realize that it’s basically the one-year anniversary of when I met Rey, and the thought is so astonishing that a bubble of pained laughter escapes me as I drive.

One. Year.

One year ago, I sullenly tried to ignore the girl behind me out of sheer perversity until she made sure she couldn’t be ignored. A pretty girl in shabby clothes and a smile that could melt a yeti’s heart. Or a sasquatch’s heart.

_And we lived happily ever after_.

I snort at that thought. One day. I wish I knew when.

This isn’t a fairy tale, it turns out. I’m not a brave, handsome prince sent on a quest to fight a dragon. She’s not a secret princess waiting patiently for rescue, either. No, my girl is screaming in the dungeon, trying to pick the locks to let herself out.

Rey’s so different now. I suppose she’s always been a little wild, a little stubborn, and stridently independent. I always thought I was the stormy one, full of need and angst, emotions beating like bands of rain in heavy wind. But today she was so reckless, and her lovely hazel eyes were filled with ferocity and anguish, and I didn’t know how to comfort her, not really. At least my touched seemed to settle her. It settled me, anyway.

I’m still afraid for her, however. I don’t know that she’s as in control of herself as she thinks, and I hate to think that I’m not there to catch her when she falls.

But good things happened today. I remind myself to find the positive elements. I saw her today. I kissed her today. I held her today. I made love with her today. I’ve got little else to offer her right now. I’d like to run away with her, but even my dumb ass knows that’s a bad idea.

When I pull into the driveway in front of my house, my dad swings open the front door and stalks to the end of the walkway. He glares at me, pointing an index finger in accusation, evidently frustrated.

Busted.

“Where were you today?” he shouts without preamble as he slams the front door behind me when I walk in the house.

I open my mouth to speak, and he waves his hands, continuing before I can get a word in. “Oooh no. Let me guess. You went to see Rey. Of course you did.”

I toe off my shoes and follow him into the kitchen, where he gestures at the table for me to take a seat. I give a surreptitious glance to see if it might be my turn to speak, but I gather not. Dad has most definitely lost his shit today. Which, I grudgingly admit, is totally understandable.

“Rey’s caseworker called me today. She asked if I might happen to know where Rey was. Said she hadn’t turned up at school and no one could find her. Runaway girls usually run to a familiar place, she said.”

I fidget, looking at my hands.

“I told her I had no idea. And when she insinuated that you might know, I told her that you were in school today. After all, my son doesn’t lie to me anymore, does he?”

Dad slams his open hand on the table. “ _Does he_ , Ben!?”

Fuck. I should have called. My dad’s been on edge since Rey’s custody hearing went south. We all have. Mom did what she always does and went back to work. Dad hid in the garage, pretending something needed to be replaced on the Falcon. And I hid in my room, pretending to study but mostly screaming into my pillow when not staring at the ceiling.

“I was going to tell you,” I mutter. “It’s not a lie if I just haven’t had the chance to give you an update.”

“What’s that cell phone of yours for, then? Your mother and I gave you that so you could keep us informed, as needed. You didn’t think you needed to tell me you were going for a ride, picking up your girlfriend, and doing god knows what all day?”

I can feel his eyes on the glaring, purple love bites Rey had left on my neck during that first, feral round of sex. “Well, I have an idea what you were doing.”

I look up at him, feeling sullen. “And if I’d told you I was skipping school with Rey, what would you have told the caseworker?”

He throws his hands in the air. “I don’t know. I’d probably have told her you were in school anyway. I’m not letting DCW tan your ass when no one’s in any danger.”

“It was a spur of the moment thing, I swear. She called me, begging to come pick her up. I had to, Dad. I wasn’t going to lie about it. I just… I just needed to take care of her first. I was going to tell you as soon as I got back.”

He looks skeptical, but he takes the chair across from mine with a heavy sigh.

“Is that so?”

I nod. “I’m sorry. But it wasn’t going to be a lie. I just needed to do something I knew would make you mad, but I wasn’t going to hide it.”

“Well isn’t that a fantastic workaround,” Dad says with an ironic smirk. “Make me mad later when it’s too late for me to stop you, but gee, at least you didn’t lie to your dumb old Dad.”

Okay, really starting to feel like shit. I get it. I should have listened to Rey and called.

“Does Mom know?”

“Does Mom know what?” Mom asks from behind me, and I sigh, slouching in my chair.

Shit. I am done for.

+++

Grounded again. Big surprise.

Mom went nuclear. If there’s any line not to cross with her, it’s skipping school. And there’s also the fact that if DCW discovered Rey was with me, the restriction on being able to bring Rey home from Niima for visits will become permanent. Promising her that I’d been careful hadn’t been enough.

“Ben, you could have been arrested. Do you understand that? Arrested! We’ve already been down that road with you. And you have to finish school. You’re four months from graduation. Four months!”

How do I know my Mom’s mad? Super mad? Turbo mad?

She’s repeating herself. And stomping around, pacing agitatedly. Her voice’s pitch gets higher.

“You could have caused serious legal issues! Serious! Legal! Issues!”

Dad’s already said his piece, I gather, so he’s sitting back and watching the Leia Organa-Solo show, and I swear there are moments when I see him try not to smile as he watches her tear me a new one. I glare at him, not feeling charitable towards his amusement.

When she finally leans over the counter, pinching the bridge of her nose, I know she’s done with me for now, at least. God, she’s been yelling so hard, she’s winded.

No car for a month.

No parties, not that I want to go to any.

No outings with friends. I can visit friends on post, but that’s it. Basically, if I can’t walk there, I’m not going.

She and Dad considered taking my phone, but I begged her to keep it in case Rey called. I have no idea when Rey will call me again, but I’ll be damned if I miss a chance to talk to her. It was the only time during Mom’s tirade that I had resisted, and we’d had a long stand-off, glaring at each other from across the kitchen until Dad had intervened, pointing out that without a car, it’s hard to skip school and get to Niima.

When Mom finally sits down with us at the dining table, she sighs heavily, and Dad eyes her, then me.

“Hungry?”

We nod, both worn out from shouting.

“Pizza?”

We nod again, giving each other wary looks.

“Alright then. But I’m picking the toppings, and I don’t want to hear any complaints,” Dad grumps at us.

+++

After the greasy pizza box hits the table with a carb and cheese-loaded thud, Mom hugs me and forces me to lean down so she can kiss my forehead and grumble that she still loves me even if I’m as impulsive and stubborn as my father, which earns her an offended noise from Dad. I see the light-hearted challenge in her eyes, and after a moment, he gives her a crooked grin, not denying it.

With pizza in front of them and a kind of détente reached after all the yelling, my parents ask me about my visit with Rey. How is she? What’s her mood? What does she say about the group home? Their questions are hesitant, as if they know the answers and are already bracing themselves for the unpleasant truth.

I tell them all the crazy rules Rey lives under now and how miserable she is, how edgy and desperate.

I try to explain the weird permission-punishment levels and how everything is structured to make sure the girls can’t get any freedom and how the high school has put her in a ridiculous grab bag of courses instead of what she was taking at Jakku High.

Neither Mom nor Dad seems pleased by what I tell them.

“That isn’t healthy. Rey doesn’t need people telling her what to do every minute of the day. And not being allowed to have visitors or make phone calls?” Dad shakes his head, frowning, “She didn’t even do anything wrong to begin with, and she’s already being punished.”

Mom purses her lips, propping her chin on her hand. “It’s not like Rey to skip school. She must have been desperate to get out of there.”

I roll my eyes, snarking, “That’s why I had to go see her.”

Dad points at me with a glare, and I flop back in my chair grumpily.

Mom pushes Dad’s hand down and gives me a stern look, her voice sharp as she says, “We don’t need to keep having this conversation, do we? Because I _will_ call the counselor, and we can hash it out there if you think that’s necessary.”

I snort slightly, muttering, “Why don’t just get some Nerf bats and have at it?”

Dad tilts his head as if considering it, and Mom closes her eyes as she contemplates what must have happened in a previous life for her to be trapped with the two stupidest men on the planet. She counts to ten before she can make eye contact with me.

“Anyway. Ben, I wish I could tell you something good here, but we didn’t get custody. She won’t have another case review hearing for six months, and even if she could have visitors, we can’t sign her out. You said we can send her mail? No matter what level she’s on?”

“Yeah. They can’t withhold mail from her, and if she ever makes it to Level 2, we can go see her during visiting hours on the weekend.”

I don’t think that’s in the cards, however. Not at the rate Rey’s going, and not from the way she describes how things are run in that group home. It’s like they _want_ to keep all the girls isolated.

Mom hums in thought for a second before asking, “What do you think would happen if we called and asked to talk to her?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Kind of easy to hang up.”

Dad’s on the same track as Mom, however, musing over our options. “We could always show up during visitation hours on the weekend and see what happens.”

I drum my fingers on the tabletop before reaching for another slice of pizza, when something occurs to me, and I blurt out, “They make the girls go to church every Sunday. Rey says it’s next door to the group home.”

It’s not my idea of a good time, or Rey’s, but churches are supposed to be welcoming. Allegedly. There’s no reason we couldn’t go to a service and try our luck. Maybe catch a glimpse of Rey.

Mom sighs, grim bemusement crossing her features.

“Maybe it’s time we got a little religion. If Luke knew what it took to get the three of us to church on Sunday, his head would explode.”

+++

“Whoooooa, Squatch. What’s going on here?”

Poe leans in to get a closer look at my neck, entering my personal space despite my patented stay-the-fuck-away-from-me glare. After his nose skims too close to me, I give him a shove and grunt at him to mind his own business.

“Oh, calm down,” he grouses at me, rolling his eyes.

The longer we’ve known each other, the more impervious he seems to my moods. Rose and Finn have gone off god knows where, probably to make out behind the gym, Gwen and Kaydel are nowhere to be found, and I guess Tallie is out sick, or Poe would be fawning over her, offering her the cup of pudding off his lunch tray. That’s romance.

Anyway, that just leaves the two of us. It’s cold, but it’s sunny, so we’re braving the outdoors, leaning against the cafeteria wall companionably. At least until he wanted to look at my hickeys.

“Let me do a little detective work,” he announces theatrically, rubbing his hands together. “You were at school yesterday morning. Your phone rang. You shoved all your assignments into my arms and asked me to turn them in for you. Then you ran to the parking lot like you were trying to beat the Olympic 100-meter dash record and took off.”

He rubs his chin as if he’s ruminating on these facts.

“Now you’re back today, somehow looking both grumpier and more peaceful. Which is a look only you can pull off, by the way. I’m impressed.”

I raise an eyebrow and shrug noncommittally.

Poe grins, leaning toward me and lowering his voice to a whisper. “You cut school to see Rey, didn’t you? You and chicken legs made a jail break.”

Whatever he sees on my face confirms the truth.

He sighs, “Damn. Romance isn’t dead. You two have that whole Romeo and Juliet star-crossed lovers thing going on. That’s so hot.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Yeah, it’s so sexy when your girlfriend gets put in foster care against her will. It’d be nice if everything could be easy for a change, you know?”

I cradle my head in my hands. It’s a little easier to look at my feet instead of Poe’s curious, compassionate eyes. I like him despite him being the most obnoxious, prying, drama king on the planet.

“I love her. Knowing I can’t see her or talk to her whenever we want, it’s killing me. It’s like half my soul is missing when I’m not with her, and I don’t understand why it has to be this hard. We don’t want much, and everything’s so fucked now.”

It really doesn’t feel fair. I could look up right now and see happy, well-adjusted teenagers all around me, holding hands and sneaking kisses at their lunch tables. I can see assholes like Dakk and Snap laughing with their arms around a couple of girls without one worrying thought flickering across their smug, stupid faces.

They can go get a burger and see a movie with their girls. They can do homework and make out. They can make plans for the weekend and for spring break. They can do all these things that have never been easy or a given for Rey and me. Rey, working until she’s exhausted and counting her pennies. Then later, Rey and I working together to keep her secrets and to keep food in her cupboards. And now we’re even worse off, our fragile dreams broken by circumstance.

It feels like more weight than people our age should have on their shoulders. I don’t think it’s supposed to hurt this much to love someone.

“I’m sorry, dude,” Poe says, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I know it can’t be easy for you or her. How’s she doing, anyway?”

“She’s not okay. I’ve never seen her so angry or determined. She hates it so much, I’m worried she’s going to do something really stupid and make everything worse.”

“…that doesn’t sound like her. Rey’s so smart. How else would she have lasted this long without being caught?”

I shake my head. “You didn’t see her. She’s… I don’t know. She’s got nothing left to lose. They sold her trailer, and they won’t her see or talk to anyone, including me, and she’s not even in the right classes in school.”

“And what about you? How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah, man. Honestly.”

I laugh a little. “If I were in her position, I’d probably burn the whole town of Niima to the ground. Right now, I’m trying to get her to focus on school, to be careful, but what I really want is to run away with her until she’s eighteen and no one can tell us what to do anymore.”

“Well, don’t do that,” Poe says warningly. It must be a bad idea if Poe Dameron thinks it’s too risky.

“I know. I just… I want to. It’s so crazy. We’re not even bad, and it feels like we’re being punished. All we want is to be with each other. Do homework. Cook dinner. Watch X-Files reruns. Seriously, we’re so dorky.”

Poe laughs a little, shaking his head, “I know. You two are super nerds.”

“Gee, thanks.” I sigh slightly. “Anyway, how are you and Tallie? You haven’t scared her off yet.”

Poe grins, and there’s something warm in his expression. “We’re really good. I know she’s been super shy around you all so far, but we have a ton in common. She wants to be a pilot, too. And she’s funny, but in like, a quiet way.”

The bell rings, and we slowly stand up, brushing the dried grass off our pants.

“That’s cool. You should invite her to hang out with everyone again. Rey says she likes her.”

“I will,” he replies. As he turns away to head to his next class, he pauses, looking back at me. “And Squatch? If you need anyone, you know you can talk to me, right?

I give him a rare smile, and I see his eyes crinkle a little at the corners in response.

“Thanks. Later, Dameron.”

+++

If we get any odd looks when we enter the white clapboard church next door to Rey’s group home in Niima, I barely take notice. From the moment I passed through the heavy oak doors, my shoulders tense, and I feel anxious sweat trickle down my spine. I haven’t been inside a church since Uncle Luke had forced me to attend with him, and there’s a panicked part of my brain telling me to get out of here that I quash ruthlessly. I cannot have some weird childhood memory meltdown right now, not when I’m maybe going to see Rey.

I can do this for her. Even if this involves me wearing khakis and a golf shirt like some middle-aged dad. And not even my dad, someone else’s way dorkier dad.

Dad gives me a sidelong glance and an encouraging nod along with a companionable bump against my shoulder. I know he’d rather be poking around a hardware store right now, debating whether to fire up the grill for dinner, or basically anything else.

“Just… keep still and be polite,” he mutters to me. “The nuns will smack you.”

“I don’t think there are nuns here, Dad,” I point out, trying not to laugh.

He shrugs. “Well, that’s who smacked me in church when I was your age. To be fair, I probably deserved it.”

“C’mon, let’s get seated,” a voice rumbles behind me, before giving me a friendly nudge with his big bear paw.

I’d asked Charlie to come with us today, having an idea it would be good for Rey to see him. Good for Charlie, too, frankly. Charlie had only made it over to our house for dinner once since the disastrous court hearing, and he’d seemed as subdued as the rest of us. He’d been friendly enough, but the laughter didn’t well up out of him in a happy rumble the way it normally does, and I’d caught him eyeing the empty chair where Rey normally sat beside me like a sad sheepdog.

Leaving, he’d hugged me until my ribs cracked. “You keep me posted about Rey, alright? You need any help, you let me know. I go to bed every night, and all I can hear is my Marcy’s voice asking me where Linnie’s girl is.”

And so we’re all here. In collared shirts. Charlie’s wearing a tie. Mom in a crisp, conservative blue dress. We are all varying degrees of uncomfortable, but none of that matters in our gambit to see Rey.

It feels like an interminable wait as I look around at the church’s high rafters and red carpeted risers for the choir behind the pulpit. Eventually, as the pews fill with more and more parishioners, I turn my head as the church door opens and a line of sullen teenage girls makes its way inside. They’re all as different as can be from each other, but they all have that singular expression of a kid who feels thrown away, and I feel that gut sense of kinship. Except I found my way back to my family. I was lucky.

When Rey straggles in at the end of the line, my breath catches. She doesn’t look well. She’s dressed in clothes I don’t know, someone’s discarded khakis and a pink button-down shirt that doesn’t suit her at all. She’s sulking like an angry alley cat backed into a corner, and I fight the temptation to find who’s in charge and rip their arms out of their sockets.

That all changes the moment she sees us. Or Charlie, rather. He’s a head taller than me, and she can’t help but notice him. A smile crosses her face, and it’s pure, golden sunshine. She looks where the group home staff has gone with a lightning quick glance, and then she’s slipping into the pew next to Charlie, hugging him for all he’s worth. Mom and Dad lean forward across my lap and offer her their hands which she excitedly squeezes.

With a sheepish look at Charlie, she eases past him in the pew so she can sit between us, and he chuckles slightly as he makes room for her.

Her hand finds its way into mine, and I smile down at her, giving her leg a little nudge with my own.

After a moment, I see a young man stop at the edge of the pew and motion to get Rey’s attention, a frown crossing his face. He’s as bland as vanilla pudding, and I already hate him.

“Rey, you know where you’re supposed to sit,” he whispers at her, then turns to give us an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, folks, if she’s bothering you.”

Mom turns on the charm, all motherly radiance. “What? No! She’s no bother at all. She and my son are school friends, and we invited her to sit with us.”

The staff attendant frowns, dubious, and I can see he’s looking around, but the pastor is taking to the pulpit, and he knows time’s up unless he wants to make a scene. He gives Rey a glare, purses his lips until they’re white and bloodless, and stalks off to sit at the end of the pew of his charges to make sure they don’t skip out on the service. Rey catches my mother’s eye and gives her a grateful smile.

+++

I manage to tune out most of the service, focusing instead on the way Rey’s hand feels in mine. Small, but strong and capable. Some of the calluses have faded since she stopped doing so much hard work like painting and trimming hedges.

After we stand for the final blessing, and the pastor thanks us all for attending, we all head outside to stand in the church yard. Rey hugs my parents, but when my mom has her arms around Rey, I see her whisper in Rey’s ear, and Rey sags a little, frowning and nodding her head, looking at my mother apologetically. _I’m sorry,_ she mouths, and Mom gives her a resolute little nod and cups her cheek affectionately.

“How are you feeling? How’s your head?” Moms eyes move over Rey’s face with concern, and Rey responds with the barest of smiles.

“Same. Hurts.” Rey’s words are light, meant to dissuade my mother from her usual ambient level of concern about Rey. Of course Mom frets. So do I. So do Dad and Charlie. But there’s absolutely nothing we can do about it now.

“Sweetheart. I know things are dark right now, but it’s early days yet. Have hope. Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night,” Mom tells her, blinking back sudden tears.

Rey sniffles slightly, but wipes her eyes quickly, trying to stand up straighter, look stronger for my mother. I think Rey would rather pitch herself into traffic than disappoint my mother.

“How long do you have, usually, before they round you all up?” I ask her, pulling her close and holding her hands. I know we’re on church turf, and there’s no way I can haul her into my arms for a kiss, as much as I yearn for it.

“Oh, um, I guess I’m technically supposed to be inside. We get preached to, and then we get to pick up the trash of all those good Christians,” Rey says with a wry expression. “So this is going to be another demerit for me.”

I groan, but Dad beats me to the question. “How many does that make for you, kid? You racking them up?”

Rey looks sheepish, ducking her head. “I’m kind of on negative levels right now. I got two more the day I skipped school with Ben, and another for back-talk the other day, and… well, this’ll put me three demerits below Level 0.”

“You managed all that in two weeks?” Charlie cuts in, looking astonished. “Don’t they know you’re good as gold?”

“Good as fool’s gold around here,” Rey exhales with a laugh, smiling up at him fondly. “The irony is, it really wouldn’t get much better even if I did behave. I’m nine weeks out from being able to have visitors or make personal phone calls. Not one of us in the home is on Level 2. I don’t think it’s possible.”

That’s… that’s not comforting. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, exchanging unhappy looks with my mom.

Mom touches her arm lightly with an enquiring glance. “Sweetheart, who’s in charge here? I’d love to have a chat and see if something can’t be worked out. Maybe they’d have a change of heart if they knew how many people are interested in seeing you and making sure you’re alright.”

“Mrs. Daala is the group home supervisor. She checks in once a day. Her office is in the church’s admin building,” Rey says, pointing to a red brick building behind the white clapboard church.

Mom tugs at Dad’s hand, and he leans down so she can whisper in his ear. He nods, gives a little frown, then nods again as if agreeing with her. After a peck on Dad’s cheek and a squeeze of Rey’s shoulder, Mom marches off, shoulders square, and I can see she’s gone into full Colonel Organa-Solo mode. Rey and I snort slightly, simply glad we’re not the object of the Colonel’s intent.

“So how’s the shop?” she asks Charlie, slipping her arm around my waist. She feels so small tucking herself into my side.

Charlie is all too glad to tell her, and the animation he’d been lacking at dinner last week returns. Dad chimes in with some talk about repairs needed on the Falcon, and he withstands some of Rey’s teasing about old men and their old cars.

“I’ve been tuning up that Ford Escort of yours,” Charlie tells her. “Han and me, we’ve been taking turns replacing this and that. When you can get back to it, you’re gonna have the most souped up 1984 Ford Escort on the market.”

Her cheeks dimple, and she laughs brightly, girlishly, and I feel the thinnest sliver of hope that maybe she won’t be lost to me forever. The way she looks at me, as if I’m the only thing that makes sense, makes me ache down to the soles of my feet.

“One day I’ll get to drive,” she says wistfully. She hasn’t yet been cleared by a doctor to drive since her concussion, nor do I think any of the group home staff will make it a priority to help her.

“Until then, the streets are safe from your road rally driving style,” I tell her, giving her a squeeze, and glancing between Dad and Charlie, “You wouldn’t believe how hard she used to brake check Hux. He’d say something jerky, and she’d get him every time.”

Dad and Charlie bark a laugh.

I can see the pastor in his gray blazer making his way from group to group of parishioners with a purposeful, enthusiastic stride, and I give Rey a quick glance. All I can think of is Luke and his platitudes and how he’d constantly spout cryptic Bible verses he thought would help me cope with my parents’ deployments.

I shift uneasily, and I nudge Rey, trying not to look like I’m not desperate to bolt away from the pastor.

“Hey, um, I gotta use the bathroom. Can you show me where it is?”

“Sure, it’s at the back,” she says, lacing her fingers through mine and tugging me along. Dad and Charlie wave, and they stand, chatting easily, smiling politely as the pastor approaches them.

Rey talks as we walk briskly toward the rear of the church, “The church was built a hundred years ago. Bathrooms were added on later, and you have to walk around to get to them.”

“I don’t really have to go to the bathroom. I didn’t want to talk to the pastor. After dealing with my Uncle Luke…” I mutter as we near brick addition at the back of the building.

Rey pulls my hand to her lips and kisses my palm slowly, her green and gold eyes moving over my face, as if she’s studying me, making sure I’m the same as she left me just days ago.

“I know. The pastor doesn’t have anything to say that’s worth hearing, anyway,” she replies with a snort and a laugh.

I see Rey tilt her head and glance around, and after a quick mental calculation, she pulls open the door to the men’s bathroom and pushes me inside, quickly locking us both in.

“Whoa, wha—” I whisper, and she grabs my face, hauling me down for a hungry kiss that I soon melt into.

“I’ve missed you,” I groan into her mouth, backing her against the wall and caging her in between my arms.

My hands find their way to her hips, and I hoist her upward, her legs eagerly curling around my waist, arms tight about my neck. The press of her slight body is maddening, and when I nip at her lower lip, she opens her mouth for me, accepting the teasing flicks of my tongue.

“Rey,” I moan, barely containing my need. Flames are licking down my spine, and I move to kiss the delicate curve of her neck.

“Ben,” she sighs as I roll my hips into hers. “Please, Ben.”

Her hands clutch more desperately at my shoulders, and she writhes slightly, finding the right friction as we rub against each other, panting.

“We’ll have to be quick,” she whispers. “I don’t know that we have time for, um, everything…”

Her face is so pink from desire, from what she’s suggesting, and she wriggles for me to let her down, and her hands immediately go to the front of my khaki pants. Her eyebrow quirks at me, because she knows this is not my usual fashion statement, and we both laugh.

But with our laughter, I’m brought out of the moment.

“Rey, don’t,” I grit out, stilling her hands with my own, keeping her from tugging the zipper down. Instead, I press her back against the wall and kiss along her jaw, whispering, “We’re in a church. My parents are here.”

She makes a forlorn, disappointed sort of noise, and tears track down her cheeks.

“Please, sweetheart, don’t,” I tell her, kissing the salty, warm tears from her face tenderly. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Don’t leave me here, Ben,” she whispers, burying her face in my neck.

I shudder, pressing into her just to feel the shape of her, the slightness I know so well. She’s imprinted upon me, as much as fingers in clay, we know each other so thoroughly.

“I have to. I’m sorry. I’ll come back for you, sweetheart,” I choke out, and I slowly lower her back to the floor, my own face wet now as I cling to her. With a gentle kiss, I pull away from her, and she cups my cheek, wiping away my tears with her thumb.

“Look at us. We’re a mess,” she says softly.

“Look what’s happened to us. I’m jumping from angry to happy to horny to sad, and I’m dragging you into it with me. This place is making me crazy.”

“Happy and horny aren’t so bad… we’re not really allowed to be either, though,” I say with a miserable laugh. I wet some paper towels in the bathroom sink, and we quietly wipe our faces, trying to look like we haven’t just been crying.

“I guess angry and sad are our only choices, but that’s no fun,” she muses, smoothing her hair back with her hands.

I take her hand and kiss it, and after a careful peek out the door to make sure no one’s watching, we return to Dad and Charlie. If we’re a little red-eyed and morose, nobody comments on it.

+++

Mom returns from her chat with Mrs. Daala red-faced and furious. There’s the pudding-faced group home staff member from before following close on her heels, and he looks thoroughly annoyed. Rey’s shoulders tense, and her jaw tightens in preparation for a fight.

“Rey, it’s time to go,” he tells her, standing back from our little group, and Rey gives him a look that would make me reconsider ever trying to tell her something she doesn’t really want to hear.

“In a minute,” she replies dismissively. “I’ll say goodbye to my friends, and I’ll be right there.”

“How about—” he starts to suggest, and my mom waves her hand at him imperiously.

“I need to share a couple things with Rey from Mrs. Daala, and you’ll have her right back. You can stand there and watch, if it means that much to you,” Mom says to him in a clipped tone.

I’m not sure he’s been dismissed so readily before, and he backs up slightly, looking cowed by my tiny mother.

“Rey, sweetheart,” she says, much more gently, placing her hands on her shoulders, “they’re not going to budge on the visitation issue. I have my own theories about that, but that’s for another day. We’ll see you at church, however. They ‘ _won’t deny us the comforts of the church_.’”

That last bit is in a high-pitched sing-song voice, and I gather that Mom is mocking Mrs. Daala.

Rey’s eyebrows raise so abruptly I laugh. She’s pleased, and she squeals, “So you can come on Sundays? They won’t stop you?”

“Provided we stay on church grounds and we behave appropriately, they have no issue with our presence. Instead of cleaning the church, you’ll have to perform other chores to make up for this. It’s the best I could manage,” Mom replies. Then, as an afterthought, “For now.”

Rey grasps my mom in a fierce hug, and I can hear how thick with emotion her voice is. “I love you, Leia. Thank you.”

“I love you, too. Now you behave yourself, alright? Can you try not to dig yourself into a deeper hole with those demerits? Mrs. Daala tells me you’re on thin ice, sweetheart,” Mom says with concern.

From the sideways look Rey shoots at Pudding Face, I don’t anticipate her doing much better with the demerits issue. To be fair, the guy looks like a humorless tool.

“We’ll see,” Rey finally replies, and both my parents and Charlie groan.

“I thought you were a sweet thing, and come to find out, you’re a hell cat,” Charlie chides her teasingly.

“I’m sweet to you, Charlie,” she tells him affectionately, and his eyes glisten slightly.

He gives her the biggest hug, kissing the top of her head, followed by my dad, my mom, and then me. I don’t care who’s watching at this point, so I kiss her cheek.

Before I go, she catches my hand, her eyes bright. She waits until my parents and Charlie are out of earshot.

“Hey, I finally have an appointment with my lawyer next month,” she says as her fingers tighten around mine, a note of determination in her voice. “I’m going to see if, well, if something can change at my case review in July.”

“Maybe they could move you back to Jakku?” I ask hopefully. Not that I’ll even be in Jakku after the summer. But at least Rey could be close to my parents and Charlie and our friends.

Her eyes seem to brighten. “That’d be good. I am still trying to figure out all my options. But I need a lawyer for that. Your mom’s right. We should have hope.”

I feel a thrill in my heart. I don’t know if it’s one of fear or excitement. Maybe both. “I wish I could do something for you. I hate that I can’t.”

“You exist. It’s enough. You’ll really be back next Sunday?” she asks, her voice wobbling slightly.

“I find that I am suddenly religiously devout,” I tell her, keeping my face deadpan.

Rey laughs, even as Pudding Face finally stalks over, thoroughly out of patience with her, and he taps her on the shoulder.

“Fine! I’m coming!” she hisses at him, before giving me a sweet smile and bouncing up to press a kiss to my lips, ignoring Pudding Face’s disapproving glare.

“See you next Sunday!” she chirps and as he tries to take her arm, she dodges his grasp with an annoyed look and stalks back toward the group home.

+++

When I join my parents and Charlie in the car, and Dad pulls out of the parking lot, my mother groans.

“What is it?” I ask, leaning forward slightly from the back seat.

“Benny, Rey has pushed every button Mrs. Daala has. At the rate she’s going, she is never getting off Level 0. She’s never going to be allowed a visitor or a phone call, let alone permission for a day out.”

“Why don’t they just kick her out already if they hate her so much?”

Damn, if that’s what it takes, I’ll tell Rey to ramp up the bad behavior and get herself expelled from the group home. Maybe they’d send her back to Jakku.

“You know, that is the million-dollar question, isn’t it? There are other homes. But Mrs. Daala seems intent to keep her around. Provided we keep putting money into the church collection plate, we’re allowed to see her. Everything has a price, it seems.”

Charlie grumbles, shifting uncomfortably next to me in the back seat. There’s just not enough room for his legs and mine back here in my mom’s sedan. “That ain’t right. She’s supposed to be too much of a troublemaker for visitors, but as long as we give them money, suddenly it’s okay? What kinda racket they got going on here? And what’s Rey done that’s so bad?”

Mom rubs her forehead. “Skipping school was the big one. The rest has mostly been attitude-related.”

Dad laughs, “A teenager with an attitude? And they’re upset about that? They do know what line of work they’re in, right?”

Charlie frowns and shakes his head, muttering, “Seems to me she was doing fine before they interfered. Shoulda left her alone.”

He pauses, then considers, “Well, not _alone_. They should have let her stay with you. She only needed a little help.”

“She finally has an appointment with a lawyer,” I tell them.

“Well, that lawyer better be able to do something for her. She can’t stay in that group home,” Charlie grouses, tugging at his tie, loosening it. “I can see it all over her face, she’s not happy. She looks tired, too.”

A thought flashes in my head. I wonder that no one’s thought of it before.

“Charlie, you should help her.”

The words escape me before the thought is formed. My mom gives me a look, and I know technically it’s not my place to tell anyone what they should or should not do, but I know Charlie adores Rey. He dances with her in the office of his auto repair shop. He buys her candy bars and asks about her report card.

“Aw, well, I don’t know,” Charlie says thoughtfully, brushing his fingers through his beard. “Of course I want to. Marcy would want me to do whatever I could to help that little girl, but I don’t know that the state would think me suitable. I’m an old man. No wife. And I never raised any kids, either.”

“Rey’s not a kid, though. She only needs a safe place to live until she’s eighteen, and that’s not so far off.”

“Ben…” my mother says in a warning tone. “Your heart’s in the right place, but don’t put Charlie on the spot.”

“No, Leia,” Charlie says gruffly. “Ben’s not wrong. I just… I’ve been trying to think about what DCW would see, looking at me. If you and Han couldn’t take her, why would they let an old fart like me take custody?”

Mom shakes her head. “That’s my worry, too. Then again, like with us, there’s no reason why you couldn’t. I’ve read the law on this backwards and forwards. You don’t have to be married. And there’s no age limit, provided you’re in good health and in your right mind.”

“You in your right mind, Charlie?” I ask him slyly.

“Mostly, son,” he replies with a grin.

“You kinda raised me, Charlie,” Dad adds from the front seat. “I mean, I was eighteen already, but you made sure I was alright. Aside from making sure I didn’t end up with a bullet in my ass, you were always checking to see if I’d gotten enough chow or enough sleep.”

Charlie snorts back a laugh. “I don’t think Rey would be half the trouble you were as a Private, Solo. You always had your eyes in the skies, wishing you were flying helicopters instead of turning wrenches, and any time you got so much as a blister or a cut on your finger, you were in the nurse’s tent looking for sympathy.”

“The nurse’s tent, hmmm?” Mom asks, and I can see the cant of her head as she turns to look at my dad. Her shoulders are shaking with the beginnings of a good laughing fit. “And how much sympathy did they give you?”

“Not a damn bit,” Dad mutters, glancing in the rearview mirror at Charlie. “They only had eyes for ol’ blue eyes back there.”

Charlie grins and waggles his eyebrows at me.

“Ladies like a charmer. You might not be here right now if I hadn’t taught your dad how to impress the ladies, Benny boy.”

“Oh, so it’s you I have to thank,” Mom snarks over her shoulder at Charlie.

“Hey! I am very charming!” Dad insists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little drama. A little angst. And maybe some hope?
> 
> I’m so proud of Han, Leia, and Ben. Solo family fights are a lot of shouting, punctuated by a pizza break. And NO, Ben, you cannot whack your parents with a Nerf bat instead of going to family counseling. Giving Leia Organa-Solo a Nerf bat and a mission to “communicate” with said bat wouldn’t end well for Ben or Han, but those dummies never think of it that way. I, for one, would be terrified of Leia. 
> 
> I’m doing my best to stay focused on the end game, but… the threads and plotting are more tangled than I realized. Please bear with me… I’ve never written anything this long, nor have I ever actually finished anything I’ve ever written (which might explain why this is so long…). I WILL FINISH THIS. I’m just struggling through indecision and too many ideas. Also, I’m ready for my babies to be happy again! 
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	48. collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. March 1999. Always with the consequences. Rey meets her lawyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

I remember that from Physical Science in 9th grade.

Every Sunday after Ben, Han, Leia, and Charlie start coming to church to see me, my bed is soaked. I don’t know when exactly Mara or the other girls find time to do it, likely when I’m on all fours waxing and scrubbing the kitchen floor in penance for daring to spend time with people who love me, but they saturate my blankets and pillows in water.

The first time is a shock. After my chores are complete, I sit down on my bunk, vision blurry from exhaustion, my thoughts moving like molasses, and there’s a squish, a squelch, and it’s terribly cold. When I gasp and hop up, whacking my head on the top bunk, making my ears ring, Mara snorts from above.

“Problem, new girl?”

I refuse to answer her. My head is spinning, and I grab the bedframe for balance as I pat my pillow and blankets which splat wetly under my hand. Goddamn it. The only reason I don’t slap Mara’s stupid face is because the afghan Maz crocheted for me is safely under the bed, folded inside my duffle bag. I’m glad I’d followed my instinct to keep it hidden away.

Silently, I peel the bedding from my mattress, which, mercifully is one of those institutional waterproof specimens. It may be stiff and weirdly crunchy and not particularly great to sleep on, but at least it’s not wet. But now I have no blankets or pillow, and we’re minutes from lights out until hygiene time in the morning.

I have the option of calling for staff, but that would just create more problems than it’s worth, so I shove the sheets and blankets under my bed for now, and I tug on a pair of sweatpants and Ben’s old hoodie over my pajamas. The group home tends to be chilly. They wouldn’t want to spend too much money on making sure a bunch of unwanted girls were warm, after all.

At exactly 10 p.m. the lights go out, and I crawl onto my bare mattress and fail to sleep. To be fair, I wasn’t sleeping well before, anyway. I haven’t since I got hurt, except for the stolen naps with Ben.

And ever after, if the girls were inclined to treat me with polite neutrality before, well, that’s all gone now. I’m ignored entirely, and if anyone’s attention on me, it’s simmering with hostility. And even if I didn’t really care, it is uncomfortable. I’m suddenly being seen, and I don’t like it.

Mrs. Daala makes her usual appearance at dinner on Monday night, and when she senses the tension rippling across the dining table over bowls of instant mashed potatoes and warmed canned peas, she catches my eye and smiles, saccharine sweet.

Ah. She’d known this would happen.

I hadn’t figured her permission to be purely altruistic. I’d guessed that Leia had perhaps slipped some money into the church’s offering plate to make it happen, but part of me also suspects that Mrs. Daala had seen her opportunity to make me a target for the other girls and taken it. She gets paid. I get paid back. A lesson.

What she doesn’t understand is that I’d withstand just about anything to see my family every week. And that’s who they are to me. _My family_. Ben and Han and Leia and Charlie.

When Charlie had returned with the Solos the following Sunday, looking for all the world like a dressed up grizzly bear in his church clothes, he’d asked if he could have a private word with me.

_His kind face, his bright cheery eyes, takes on a solemnity I’m not used to from him. We sit on the church steps together, and as always, he offers me a Snickers. The man knows my sweet tooth well, and I smile up at him. I’ll have to eat it now, because stuff like this is considered contraband in orphan jail._

_“What is it, Charlie? Is everything alright?” I give his hand a squeeze and study his face as if I could reveal the mystery that way._

_“Oh, I’m fine, just fine, Rey. You see, I’ve been thinking and doing a little talking with Han and Leia. Well, it was Benny’s suggestion, really, you know. I should have thought of it myself, but I didn’t think I was a candidate, as far as the law was concerned.”_

_I shake my head, not quite following. “What did Ben suggest? A candidate for what?”_

_“Oh! Forgive my rambling. Well, he was talking about how you’ve got your lawyer now, and you’re gonna go see ‘em about your options. And I wanted you to know that, if you want, you could come live with me. I’m willing to be your guardian. If you want. If the state lets me.”_

_I almost drop my Snickers, my hands fumble so nervously. “Wha—really, Charlie? I… do you think there’s a chance?”_

_“Leia says it’s all in the law. I can. Technically. Hard for a non-parent to get custody, but, damn it, I think it’s worth a try.”_

_I launch myself at him for the tightest hug I can manage, making him laugh._

_“Charlie!! Do you really want a rotten apple like me to live with you?”_

_“Rotten apple? Little lady, you’re the apple of my eye. Now you listen. I don’t know how any of this works, but I want you to make sure that lawyer knows I’m around. If you give me their information, I’ll give ‘em a call. We’ll do it all right and legal and get you out of here. Maybe we’ll get a judge who can see a little common sense.”_

_I don’t know exactly what I did in life to deserve Charlie, but I’m glad I did it._

Those Sunday visits are the only happiness in my life, and the thread of hope of knowing that Charlie’s willing to take me in pulls me from one Sunday to the next like a guide. But in the interim, every week, my bed gets soaked, and I strip my mattress while Mara snickers above me.

I’m permanently assigned evening kitchen duty, and nobody minds tipping their plates to spill all over the floor. The staff ignores it, and as much as I want to slap those girls, I can’t slap them all, and certainly not without more demerits. I mutter curses at them as I clean up the endless mess, and by the time I get to my homework, my brain feels sore inside my skull, and my eyes won’t let me focus on the tiny print in my textbooks, and I don’t have the energy to sass back against the staff the way I want.

I quietly loathe them all week long, and on Sundays, I squeeze next to Ben in the church pew, and I enjoy the way he holds my hand so gently and looks at me like _I’m_ the answer to his prayers.

And when we can, when his parents and Charlie make polite small talk with the other parishioners, Ben and I slip away to the back of the admin building under the guise of visiting the restrooms, and we kiss. Sometimes tenderly, tinged with sweetness and sadness, other times frantically, where ripples of anger and frustration lead the way.

And thankfully, when we dutifully return to the front church yard, flushed and bright-eyed, no one says a thing.

I can endure plenty as long as I get my stolen moments with Ben.

+++

Mrs. Kandia sighs, rolling her eyes at me as I slide into the passenger seat of her car. She’s here to bring me back to Jakku so I can see my lawyer.

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish today,” she tells me with a sidelong glance. “Your next case review is five months away, and I can’t imagine what you think will change.”

I grit my teeth and look out the window.

“I’ve been reading. I have options,” I mutter under my breath.

I’d taken the packet Winter had given me to the school library and started searching for information on the internet. It was painstaking, but the spiral notebook I’ve got in my bookbag is full of questions I want to ask my lawyer.

Kandia looks at me appraisingly, but I shrug. Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t know what I discuss with my lawyer. If she’s shocked that I’m not happy in the group home, she’s not just negligent, she’s stupid.

“Why don’t you return my phone calls?” I ask her bluntly. “Mrs. Daala’s ignoring my medical issues. I’m not getting better, and she hasn’t signed me up for the therapy. And my teachers say the school doesn’t have any record of the special requests for me to get more time on my work.”

“I hear different things from Mrs. Daala. I hear your attitude is worse every day, and that you refuse to follow the rules,” she snarks at me.

Well, isn’t she a paragon of professionalism? I swear, every interaction we have only makes us hate each other more.

“If you did your job, I wouldn’t have to call you all the time.” My words are sour, and I cross my arms over my chest. “My head still hurts. Every day. I want to see another doctor.”

Is she even listening? From the way she’s watching the road and fiddling with the radio dial, flipping past a girl asking to be kissed beneath the milky twilight and Will Smith bouncing in a club in Miami, I gather not. Anything to keep from listening to me. I try again, anyway.

“Look, I know you don’t like me, but I’m telling you the truth. I have dizzy spells when I’m tired, and it’s still hard for me to focus at school. I’m failing half my classes.”

Even in Algebra 1, which I took years ago, I can’t focus on the work well enough to get decent grades. Under the whining track lighting in the classroom, the letters and numbers swim across the page, and I lose track of what I’m doing.

I feel dumb. And my teacher treats me like I’m dumb. Just a couple months ago, I could have done all this work in my sleep.

My other classes, particularly chemistry and history aren’t so great, either. Pathetic and awful and humiliating, really. Remembering things is harder than it used to be. I can do it, but it just takes so much longer. And if I’m at it too long, my vision gets fuzzy. I barely know myself anymore.

Mrs. Swenson, the chemistry teacher has been kind enough to let me sit in the equipment room on my own to take her tests without distractions, but she can’t give me more time than the other students, either. And as much as I resent it, I do need more time now.

Mr. Kenobi, the old-timer US History teacher, is merciless. His tests focus on defining specific dates, and in the time we’re given, it’s impossible for me. My recall is too slow. If he’d ever talk to me, he’d see that I mostly know what happened but right now, I can’t answer the questions fast enough to finish the tests. And by the time I’m done, I have a splitting headache, anyway.

And of course, when school is over, it’s impossible to recharge my brain at the group home, let alone focus on homework, with the hostile glances from the girls and Mara constantly slamming her books around and scraping her chair against the tile floor back and forth and back and forth when she’s supposed to be studying at her desk. I don’t get the sense that a lot of learning is happening for her, either. Shocker there. She seemed like such a scholar at first glance.

Anyway.

Mrs. Kandia gives me a speculative glance. “It’s up to Mrs. Daala to schedule your appointments, but I’ll mention your request. I have spoken to her about it previously.”

The Jakku District Attorney’s office is on the top floor of the county courthouse, the tallest building in the central square of Jakku’s “historic” district. I’m not positive, but I don’t know if two brick buildings count as a district, but the locals have been fairly determined that it does count.

The office is a flurry of activity with hallways and hallways of closed offices and an open bay where the admins sit in front of a computer, directing people to their appointments. It’s overwhelmingly noisy, and the clatter of fingers on computer keyboards and voices in low, urgent conversations from every direction wraps around me, muffling my thoughts.

Mrs. Kandia checks in with the admin desk, and the harried admin glances up briefly as she starts checking the computer for my appointment.

“Hmm. Hmmm. I’m not seeing it.” Her voice is almost bored as she speaks, as if she half-expected this even before we stepped up to side of the desk.

That snaps me out of my fog, and I lean on the high counter surrounding the cluster of admins. “I’m supposed to see Karyn Faro at 2 p.m. Is she here?”

Mrs. Kandia mouths for me to be quiet, and then gives the admin an expectant look.

She peers up from behind large, red-framed glasses owlishly.

“Ms. Faro is not in today.”

“But I have an appointment,” I say flatly. “She’s supposed to be here.”

“She’ll be back in two weeks; she’s on vacation.”

Mrs. Kandia looks beyond annoyed at receiving this news. Then again, this means she has to deal with me again, and I know she’s not about that life.

“Why did I get booked with an attorney who isn’t even here?” I ask bluntly.

“Rey, you’re not helping,” Mrs. Kandia hisses at me, and her eyes flash at me with hostility before turning back to the admin.

“Can we go ahead and reschedule for when Ms. Faro is back?”

“Oh, I don’t do scheduling. You’ll have to call the resource line.”

What I’ve learned to hate more than anything since my injury is how nothing is ever anybody’s job. It’s always someone else who has to do the task. People’s hands are always tied. It’s all apologies and excuses, and the more I consider it, the more the frustration and rage spikes in me. I’m not allowed to do anything for myself, and these people _won’t_.

I shove the stapler off the woman’s desk, enjoying the clatter as it makes Kandia and the admin jump in surprise.

“No. I don’t want an attorney who doesn’t honor her appointments. And I’m not leaving here without seeing an attorney.”

“Okay, that’s it. Rey, apologize. Ma’am, I’ll call the resource line.”

I stand sullenly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m not leaving without talking to an attorney. I don’t want Faro.”

“Miss? That’s not how this works. Your case worker has to call the resource line. Actually, if you want a new lawyer, there’s paperwork to be processed for that in advance of scheduling an appointment.”

I reach across the counter and shove a stack of papers off the admin’s desk. It makes a satisfying thud onto the floor and the papers fan out messily. Good.

“I’m tired of waiting. This appointment was scheduled a month ago. I’m not leaving until I talk to an attorney.”

“Rey! Lower your voice. You will get yourself under control, right now!” Mrs. Kandia hisses at me angrily, grabbing my arm.

“Let. Go. Of. Me.” I hiss back, jerking out of her grasp. “Why can’t I see someone? How many lawyers are in here? 30? 50? Assign me to one of them. It can’t be hard. Or does nobody really give a shit around here?”

By now, the entire floor has fallen silent. No one’s clacking on a keyboard. No one’s talking about trial dates and hearings and testimonies and whatever else it is lawyers talk about with their clients. I wouldn’t know exactly, because after all this time, I’m still being ignored. I’m still being put aside like a little doll on a shelf. If they think I’m going to sit quietly and take whatever they throw my way… I realize I’m working myself up, but I don’t care.

“That’s not how this works,” Mrs. Kandia yells at me, her face growing red. Strands of hair are falling out of her previously tidy bun.

“Why not?” I yell back. “The sooner I see a lawyer, the sooner you can get rid of me!”

“As great as that sounds, the D.A. office assigns lawyers. I don’t. And you have to file a request.”

I throw up my hands, exasperated, and I impulsively grab a pencil cup off the counter and throw it as hard as I can at Mrs. Kandia, clipping her shoulder. She yelps and lunges for me and I duck out of the way to evade her grasp.

“We’re in the D.A. office! Make the request now!” I shout at her. “You’re not even trying to help me!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the admin picking up the phone, glaring at me. She says in a warning tone, “I’m calling security.”

“See what you’ve done here?” Mrs. Kandia snaps at me, grabbing my arm again so tight I wince. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“You’re—”

A cool, somewhat amused voice interrupts our quarrel. “I gather you’re in need of legal advice, Miss…?”

I whirl around, startled, and I realize then that perhaps I am embarrassing myself, and my face reddens as I look up at the speaker, a tall woman, dressed chicly in a lavender skirt suit that matches her hair, much to my surprise. She looks me over with interest and past my shoulder at Mrs. Kandia.

Before I can say anything, Mrs. Kandia lets go of my arm again and tries to compose her face. “Oh, no thank you. We’re on our way out.”

“I do need legal advice,” I insist, looking at… lavender lady. “Are you a lawyer?”

“Amilyn Holdo,” she says, introducing herself, and holding out a perfectly manicured hand. “I’m a partner at Holdo, Stevis, and Allor.”

I take her hand and shake it politely, carefully studying her. She has a face with a slightly pointy chin, and eyes that are clever but not calculating. There’s a warmth there, too.

“Rey Sands. I… my assigned attorney is a no-show. Um, I was hoping to get assigned to someone else.”

“She’s not with the D.A. office, Rey,” Mrs. Kandia huffs behind me.

Ah. That means she costs money. Money I don’t really have. While I’m allowed to hire an attorney of my own, I don’t want to blow through the money from the sale of my trailer that fast. Ben and I had talked about it, he agreed with me that I should use it to get in a couple years of community college whenever I get free of this mess.

“Oh. Nice to meet you, but I need a D.A.,” I tell Ms. Holdo wryly. “Someone like you is out of my budget.”

“Now don’t say that. I have all kinds of clients.”

It’s about then that a security guard arrives, looking annoyed, and I shift uneasily on my feet. Ah shit. “Um, do you have broke teenage clients who also get kicked out of the courthouse?”

Ms. Holdo quirks an eyebrow at the man in his blue uniform and she gives him a winning smile. “Larry! Don’t worry about a thing. Ms. Sands is going to take a walk with me.”

Mrs. Kandia clears her throat, and I can tell she’s dreaming of skinning me alive and throwing me into a hog pit when she speaks. “Excuse me, but I’m taking her back home now.”

I don’t know why I do, but I trust Ms. Holdo. I turn to face Mrs. Kandia and make a pleading face. “Please? You’re going to have to bring me back here anyway. …I promise not to throw anything else…” I offer lamely.

She’s not altogether impressed, but she shrugs. “I’ll be in the lobby. Don’t even think of running off.”

Ms. Holdo smiles at me brightly. “Well! Right this way, then. Tell me everything.”

+++

“So what do you think?” I ask her after a while.

We’re sitting by the fountain in front of the courthouse, and after I clarified that Mrs. Kandia is not my mother or anything remotely close to that, I told her my story, every last bit, from being orphaned, to losing Maz and hiding in plain sight, to Ben and the Solos, my accident and injuries, and how I’m now trapped in a life I never wanted.

“Well, I think it’s a shame your hearing was in front of Enric Pryde. The man’s a ghoul who’d put kids like you in Dickensian workhouses so the state could make money off you if that were legal.”

I tilt my head questioningly. “What do you mean?”

Ms. Holdo shrugs.

“Some foster care facilities are run by privately owned organizations for a profit. Niima Church is technically a private corporation, despite being a church. They get paid by the government to keep hold of children. And despite the many complaints lodged against them, they continue to be trusted. Ever wonder why?”

“I’ve always assumed it’s because no one really cared.”

“Ah, well. Some people do care, to be fair. But there are those who don’t, and those who are burnt out and haven’t got the energy to have pencil cups thrown at them by angry teenagers,” she says pointedly, making me flush at realizing she’d been watching my tantrum, before continuing, “I also think men like Pryde get a kick-back for sending down kids like you, perhaps. But that’s just a theory I’ve been working on.”

I bite my lip, and I fuss with the worn edge of my sleeve. I’ve watched enough X-Files. Trust No One and all that. It still doesn’t explain to me why this bright-eyed, eccentric-looking woman is asking me about my problems.

“It wouldn’t surprise me. That still doesn’t explain why you’re interested in me. Don’t you have important lawyer things to do? I can’t pay you. I wish I could. You seem really smart.”

“I think we might be able to help each other.”

I glance up at her curiously, and she gives me a warm smile. Outside of the Solos and Charlie, no one really talks to me like an equal, like my opinions are worth anything at all. But Ms. Holdo is. But I also can’t imagine what help I could possibly provide her. I’m sixteen. I don’t even have a driver’s license or a high school diploma. Right now, it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting either credential anytime soon.

“I haven’t even told you what I want help with,” I tell her. “Maybe it can’t be done.”

“Are you familiar with the saying, ‘Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.’?”

Huh.

“I… yes. It’s something Ben’s mother said to me. You really think that?”

Ms. Holdo raises an eyebrow, some fleeting thought crossing her face that she doesn’t share with me.

“May I call you by your first name, Ms. Sands? You’re welcome to call me Amilyn. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be direct with me.”

“Um, sure.”

“Rey. You’re never going to survive this without hope. I’m not telling you to live in a fantasy world, but you need that spark of hope to keep yourself going.”

“But it’s conditional? If I don’t do whatever it is you want from me… What if it doesn’t work out? What if I can’t help you?” I shrug slightly, and Amilyn smiles slightly.

“It’s not like that. Let me clarify a bit. My firm is currently working with the state on a major lawsuit against a private organization that is licensed and paid by the state to run group homes, and that org is the church running your group home. We have an idea of where the money goes, but there’s something rotten in the state of Denmark. The money doesn’t go to the kids the way it should, and sometimes, kids who don’t need to be there get sucked in to keep the money flowing.”

“And you think I might be an example of a kid who doesn’t need to be there.”

Ms. Holdo nods seriously. “Just a hunch. I’d like to evaluate your case as potential evidence and you as a potential witness. You wouldn’t have to do anything except tell the truth.”

I worry at my sleeve, unraveling a thread, fidgeting nervously as I consider what she’s saying. It’s overwhelming. Exhilarating. Maybe…

“I have a friend, Charlie. He’s like a grandpa to me, and he wants to file for custody. He doesn’t really know how this works, and neither do I, but he says I can live with him, and I know I’d be safe,” I tell her, meeting her eyes steadily even as my heart thumps in my chest.

“Do you feel unsafe in the group home?”

I shake my head.

“No one has hit me or anything, but they don’t take me for the doctors’ appointments I need, and they’re not helping me with my school stuff.”

“And you don’t want to try to have the Solos get custody again?”

I shake my head.

“They appealed Judge Pryde’s decision, and it got denied. It was too hard on them.”

They’d been near tears when they’d told me after church, that they’d been turned down as my guardians a second time. They’d supplied evidence of Ben’s reform and treatment and still been denied, hoping it would make a difference. I won’t put them through it again, not after they’ve done so much.

Ms. Holdo opens her briefcase, and she pulls out some paperwork and a business card. “You’re going to need help from others. You can trust me on that. Anyway, take these. I bet your case worker is spitting fire waiting on you as long as she has. You’re at Niima Christian Home?”

I nod slightly.

“I’ll call you there. I’m going to take you on, Rey.”

“What if I’m not useful to your lawsuit? Will you drop me?”

Ms. Holdo shakes her head and gives me a serious look, her eyes rock steady on mine. “No. Even if not one thing about you or your case helps the lawsuit, I’ll still help you with your custody hearing. All I want from you is a little time. I promise you, you’re doing me a much bigger favor.”

“O-okay,” I say softly, standing up and shoving all the papers in my backpack. “Thank you. I… I promise I’ll do my best for you. Why did you pick me anyway? I must have looked like I lost my mind in there, earlier.”

Amilyn Holdo rises next to me, looking as elegant as I am disheveled in my ratty sweatshirt and torn jeans.

“You needed someone to hear you. I didn’t know if we’d have any mutual interests, but I thought I could at least defuse the situation before you assaulted someone. Luck brought us together, perhaps.”

I eye her and give a wry smile. “What kind of luck?”

+++

“Wait, what?” Ben asks, looking at me confusedly.

We’re in the church yard after the Sunday service, and he’s holding my hand as if I might vanish if he lets go for even a second. I’ve been vibrating with energy all week. Amilyn had called me the next day and expedited the paperwork to me to review, and Mrs. Kandia had agreed to be a point of contact as well. She saw the sense, at least, in not making me wait any longer than necessary. And when I told her I was going to see another custody agreement outside the system, she didn’t argue the point. I think Kandia’s more than ready to get rid of me.

“I’ve got a lawyer. A good one who’s going to take me on for free,” I say breathlessly, looking from his face to Leia’s to Han’s and upward to Charlie’s. “All I have to do is maybe testify for her on this other case.”

They’re all so silent, staring at me gravely, that my enthusiasm falters. “What is it? You don’t think it’s a good idea?”

Charlie shuffles slightly, clearing his throat. “Well, it could be. I’d like to meet her, make sure she’s honest.”

Ben’s hand tightens on mine, and I’m so grateful for the silent support.

“Oh yeah! She’s supposed to give you a call this week so we can start doing all the stuff. Kandia’s even helping her. Well, as much help as she ever gives, anyway.”

Okay, that’s a little unfair. Kandia has, technically, done everything she is required to do by law. Just not one thing more.

“Alright. But if I feel like she’s running some scam, little lady, I’m going to put the kibosh on this whole thing. I’ve got good horse sense about people.”

“I promise, she seems decent. She even counseled me against trying for emancipation because all the stuff with my head injury won’t fly in front of any of the judges she knows. She says the best thing I can do is get out of the group home and live with you.”

“That’s wise of her, at least,” Leia says. “I think you’ve lived alone long enough.”

“And I really could use the company,” Charlie adds.

My heart swells with love for sweet Charlie. I don’t know where the endless supply of goodness comes from in this man’s soul, but I don’t know that the world deserves him.

Han grins crookedly, his eyes filled with nostalgia. “Charlie, you’ve always been a softie.”

“Maybe so. You were a skinny kid in need of a friend, once. And so was I a long time ago. Not that you could tell by looking at me now,” he chuckles, patting his rather solid middle.

I don’t know who starts the hug this time, Charlie or me. He’s as sturdy and reliable as a brick wall, and I wonder how I’ll ever make it up to him.

When I pull away from him, I fish Amilyn’s contact information that I’ve copied down for the Solos and Charlie on lined notebook paper out of my pants pocket and hand it over to them, glancing from face to face, feeling… I don’t know how I feel. A little hopeful and awkward, I guess. Grateful. Shy to be asking them for help. And proud of myself for even having any kind of plan. I know it’s more Amilyn’s doing, but if I hadn’t fought like a wildcat, she would never have noticed me.

“This is my lawyer’s info. Leia, Han, is it okay if she contacts you about her other case?” I ask. I figure their experience seeking guardianship being scuttled might be something Amilyn could want to go over with them. “She says there’s something rotten in Denmark with people like Judge Pryde and this group home.”

“Amilyn Holdo is your attorney?” Leia asks, her eyebrows rising so rapidly they just about hit her hairline.

She bursts out laughing, and it’s such a startlingly, surprisingly happy sound. Some of the church parishioners’ heads turn to look at our group, it’s so bright.

“What’s Amilyn Holdo doing in Jakku?” she wonders out loud.

I look between Han and Ben, and they’re both perplexed and shrugging.

“Leia, do you know her?”

Leia shakes her head and waggles the piece of paper I’d just handed her.

“Sweetheart, I’m calling her as soon as I get home. Amilyn and I were on the field hockey team together at Vassar. Let me tell you, you don’t want to get in the way of anything she wants. She’s the most determined person I know.”

“There’s someone more determined than you?” I ask lightly, making Han snort, Ben stifle a laugh, and Leia swat at me playfully.

“Yes, and if she’s half as fierce as a lawyer as she was on the hockey pitch… well, she’s someone good to have on your side,” Leia says with a pointed smile. After a long moment, looking down at the paper with a fond smile, she adds, “Well. It’s a smaller and smaller world all the time.”

Later, when the crowd of churchgoers begins to thin out in the yard, Han and Leia head back to the car, Ben and I following behind, and Charlie meanders, looking at someone’s classic 60s T-bird in the parking lot with a great deal of interest, then chatting happily with the owner when he comes to claim to his car.

As much as Ben and I try to linger, giving ourselves space to maybe share even just a few sentences that are our own, that aren’t observed by his parents or Charlie, it’s not far enough to avoid hearing Han and Leia. Apparently, Leia’s reminiscences of life as a collegiate field hockey player had sparked Han’s interest.

“Just out of curiosity,” Han whispers to Leia, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You still got that little field hockey skirt? You think you could…”

Oh. My. God.

Ben and I freeze and look at each other in abject horror, and we reel backward a few steps, wishing we could bleach our brains. Charlie’s lucky to be out of earshot for that conversation, because Ben, well, I’ve never seen him more traumatized.

He seems so appalled, that even as horrified as I am, I can’t help but to tease him. I wrap my arms around his waist, and my face is all innocence.

In the sweetest voice I can muster, I ask, “Now, Benny. How do you think you happened?”

“Oh, god, stop,” he groans, rubbing his hand across his face as if in agony.

“Your mom told me the whole story, you know, of how she got with your dad,” I say with a wicked laugh, and it only serves to make his face turn beet red. “And your parents aren’t that old, you know.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he mutters, and I giggle wildly, patting his chest I’m so delighted with myself, laughing harder when he tags on, “You’re the worst, do you know that? The worst.”

“I’m not so bad,” I tease, “You love it when I make you squirm.”

“If we weren’t surrounded by so many holy rollers right now, I’d…” he drifts off, giving me a significant look.

“Oooh, you’d what?”

His dark honey eyes smolder, and heat ripples through every nerve ending in my body. He doesn’t have to say a word, and I glance up at him, my face coloring the longer his eyes rove over me.

It’s too personal a moment in so public a place, and Ben eventually flushes and sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. He looks chagrined, wistful.

“I’d kiss you.”

+++

Another week. Another soaked bed. More miserable days at school where the loud voices make my head split and the tiny text in the books makes my vision double.

The girls ignore me, and I them. But I hear from Amilyn, and she’s met with Charlie, and she tells me, apparently delighted, that she had connected with Leia for lunch and caught up on old times.

“You asked what kind of luck brought us together, Rey. I’m certain it’s good luck,” Amilyn told me warmly, as she launches into a brisk description of the documents and files she’s requesting. My school records, medical records, sworn statements from Han and Leia about Charlie’s character, psych evaluations for both Charlie and me, and on and on. She’s so very thorough, it boggles my mind.

Leia was not wrong about her.

And finally. Finally. Wednesday comes, and with it some mail.

The staff member brings the small stack of letters inside the house, sorting then carelessly tossing our letters at us he walks by. I catch my two letters, and seeing who they’re from, a rare smile blooms on my face.

Even if Qira and Callista have poured honey? sugar? both? on the kitchen floor for me to scrub, I can’t find it within myself to care when I have letters from Rose and Ben tucked in my pockets. I mop as quickly as I can, trying and failing not to snort when I watch Callista slip on a wet spot and nearly wipe out. She gives me a nasty look, and I shrug my shoulders at her.

By the time I make it back to my room and sink into my desk chair, I’m exhausted. A day of school, study hours, dinner and kitchen duty, and now I finally get some personal time. As is my habit, I reach into my desk and take a couple of Tylenol in an effort to do something about my increasingly painful headache.

I start with Rose.

_Rey!_

_Girl, I miss you. The boys are great, and Tallie seems sweet, but I need my Reybie baby. I miss our sleepovers and dancing in the kitchen with my mom and how mad you get when I want to play with your hair and makeup. There’s no one here who can talk me through Pre-Calc, either. Basically, life without you is totally lame._

_So. Gossip. Why else would I write? Finn and Poe are back on the baseball team, so I spend waaaay too much time sitting on bleachers next to Tallie. Yearbook’s a total mess, because PER USUAL, all the kids who showed up in the fall to pick the theme did not stick around to actually do any work. I’m making the thing by my damn self with Finn and Poe, and I think I’m just going to put a picture of Mr. Tarkin on every page and maybe next year the other students will care enough to follow through on the promise to, you know, actually make a fucking yearbook. HA. Anyway._

_Poe is totally head over heels for Tallie, by the way. I know we’ve seen him with all kinds of crushes, but hand to god, he just hovers after her down the school hallway with hearts in his eyes. Tallie’s still really shy, but she’s warming up a little. I think she’s just a quiet person, you know? She and Poe are yin and yang but it works. Anyway, now that he’s got a girlfriend, Finn spends more time with me!_

_Anyway, that’s what’s up with me. Class is class. Blah. Lunch is terrible. Hux is still a pasty ginger who always looks like something smells bad._

_Are they ever going to let you come to Jakku for a visit? Or maybe I could visit you there? I know the rules are strict, but Ben says you’ve got a new lawyer who might be able to help you, so maybe you can come home soon? So cool that your lawyer is an old friend of his mom’s!_

_I don’t know what I can do to help you, but if there’s ever anything, just tell me. You should be here with us and not in Niima. We all miss you like crazy._

_We’re all here for you._

_LYLAS,_

_Rose_

I carefully fold the letter and tuck it into my desk drawer, wishing desperately I could just pick up a phone and call her. I wish I could see her sunny face at the next desk over from mine in class. Oh, Rose.

I smile to myself as I peel open the envelope containing Ben’s letter. We’d realized quickly enough that the church services weren’t enough for us. Out in public, surrounded by the churchgoers, with Ben’s parents and Charlie never more than a foot away, we can’t talk to each other. It is getting harder and harder to let him go each Sunday, and I feel an increasing urge to pitch myself into the backseat alongside him and leave this place.

It was just a few weeks ago, when we were trying to disentangle ourselves from a hug that he’d clutched me together, whispering into the top of my head, “I miss you so damn much. Seeing you every week is keeping me sane, but it’s not enough. We barely get a moment to be alone.”

He doesn’t mean sex. Okay, I miss sex. A lot. And knowing Ben and his appetites, there’s no way he doesn’t miss it. Our stolen kisses are only serving to give Ben the world’s worst case of blue balls and myself a serious case of blue… ovaries? I think that makes sense. Anyway.

But what he’d really meant, and what makes my heart ache every day, is that we can’t take a walk together. We can’t sit on the couch and watch TV together. We can’t do our boxing workouts together. We can’t really talk to each other. Every Sunday, we sit next to each other and then make polite small talk, acting like friendly strangers.

Every cell in me is crying out for him. I need more. He needs more. So he writes letters to me. And I write to him.

_Dear Rey,_

_I think Mr. Tarkin might actually be the devil incarnate. You should probably tell the church pastor the devil walks among us in the guise of a high school math teacher. It might spice up this Sunday’s sermon. Tarkin keeps assigning more and more problem sets, but he never explains a damn thing, as you know. And without you around to decode the textbook, none of us have any hope. Help us, Rey Sands! You’re our only hope!_

_Other than that, school’s fine. I still go to the food bank once a week to volunteer. I’m saving up every penny I make at the commissary. For us. And I’m waiting to hear back from the colleges I applied to._

_I admit, I’m really scared. What if I didn’t get in anywhere? What if no one wants me? And if I get in, how can I possibly go? I don’t even know what I want to study. Why does the world think we’re ready to choose at our age? I know adults joke that teenagers think they know everything. I am starting to understand what I don’t know, and it’s terrifying. But I shouldn’t put that on you. You have enough on your mind. Maybe I should take that up with Dr. Santekka._

_Mom’s delighted that Amilyn is your lawyer. They’ve met up for lunch, and I think it’s as much social as it is to talk about you and what happened with the guardianship and the appeal. I guess Amilyn went to law school here in North Carolina, and she ended up joining a firm in Jakku. Anyway, Mom says she’s building a huge case against the church that owns your group home (and a bunch of others). The details are confidential, but it sounds like a big deal. Maybe don’t tell too many people who your lawyer is._

_I think if anyone can get you emancipated, maybe she can. Mom says she’s scary smart, and she doesn’t take no for an answer. Honestly, she sounds like you. She’ll fight for you, I think. We’d all fight for you, Rey, and I hear you’re fighting for yourself, too._

_Did you really throw a pencil cup at your case worker? My Rey? My good, sweet Rey? Or are you my fierce, wild Rey? I think you can be all those things. I accept you in all your forms. I adore and love you in all your forms._

_I want to know what happened. What’s in your head? Our meetings on Sunday aren’t enough, and I know you want them to be pleasant, but that leaves so much unsaid._

_Sweetheart, I miss you more every day. I can’t stand being apart from you. Half of me is missing, and it’s hard to function. I’d give anything to fall asleep with you in my arms again. I might sleep better. I know I would, actually. Sixteen months is a long time to wait, so I hope it’s much sooner._

_Free Rey!_

_I love you,_

_Ben_

+++

“What are you smiling about?” Mara demand snarkily, sliding off the top bunk with a hearty thunk as her feet hit the floor.

I quickly fold Ben’s letter and tuck it back in its envelope before I glance up at Mara.

“None of your business,” I state flatly.

I busy myself with putting the letter away amongst the others, and I think when I get a chance, I’ll have to store these in my locker where she can’t get at them. I swear, she’s exactly the sort of person who might shank me in my sleep given the opportunity and inspiration.

“Is it your ugly boyfriend?”

I give her a warning glare. She’s tried every which way to goad me before, but this is the first time she’s mentioned Ben. I know she’s seen the framed picture of us on my desk. She’s certainly seen us at church on Sundays. As tall and broad as Ben is, he’s hard to miss in a crowd.

I know the best thing I can do is ignore her. But Mara’s in a mood. She didn’t get any letters today. She never does.

“A lot of girls have boyfriends when they come here. I did. But they lose interest when they can’t see you.”

I shrug dismissively, and I turn back to grab my folder of homework. I’m too tired for her nonsense, and the Tylenol hasn’t done anything for my head pain.

But she kicks the back of my chair, and I lurch forward.

“How long until you get out of here? More than a year, from the look of you. You look young. You think that boy’s going to wait that long to stick his dick in you again? He’ll find someone new. You’re not that special.”

“He’ll wait,” I mutter.

_Sixteen months is a long time to wait._

Ben said it himself. But he wouldn’t… no. Ben is loyal. Ben loves me. I shove the doubt away as abruptly as it had been introduced into my mind. I won’t let a girl like Mara poison my thoughts.

“Will he? They all say that. Sittin’ in that church pew with you with his mommy and daddy is going to get old when he could be sleeping in. Especially when there are other girls who are more available. Pretty ones. Ugly ones. Doesn’t matter. There’s always another girl.”

“He’ll wait,” I say, more sternly this time.

“How long’s it been? You’ve been here what, almost two months? That’s about when they start drifting. You’ll see. More excuses. He’ll miss a Sunday. Then another.”

“You don’t know Ben.”

“I don’t need to. All boys are the same. The moment they’re bored, they’ll go somewhere else.”

She kicks my chair again, and I finally turn around and give her an angry look, seething.

“What is your problem?” I ask. “Stay out of my life. It’s none of your business.”

“You’re my problem. You think you’re better than the rest of us, don’t you? You know we’re all the same, right? Unwanted? Cast offs? You’ve been left here to rot. Just like everyone else.”

“I have people waiting for me,” I hiss. “I’m not like the rest of you. Not at all.”

Too far.

Mara slaps me. Hard. I taste blood.

Oh. Fuck her.

I lunge out of my chair and shove her as hard as I can. She’s bigger, but I’m faster, and I catch her by surprise. But she reels back just as quickly, using brute strength to shove me back. I take a wild, undisciplined swing at her, and I feel my fist connect with her face. Good.

After that it’s a blur. She recovers from my punch and swings back, clocking me in the side of my head, making my ears ring. I stagger back, unbalanced, and Mara takes the opportunity, shoving me again and again until I’m backed against the wall.

“Mara, stop!” I shout, struggling against her, trying to kick her feet, stomp her, anything. Panic rises in me, realizing she’s going to hurt me. She’s really going to hurt me. And I’m not strong like I was, before.

“Admit it!” she screams, grabbing the front of my shirt and slamming me back, my head clunking against the wall painfully. “You think you’re better!”

“Stop!” I scream, and she hits me again, making my vision swim.

The next time she hits me, everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Before you come after me with pitchforks, you’ll see why this needed to happen when you read the next chapter. I swear this is the last time.
> 
> Also, OUCH. Rey’s poor head!  
> LYLAS - Love you like a sister
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed the plot twists this chapter offered: Rebel Rey attracting a new lawyer, and not just ANY lawyer, but epic badass Amilyn Holdo, riding a shining white steed of motherfarking JUSTICE. Get ready for her Holdo Maneuvers, y’all.
> 
> And yes, after 18+ years of marriage, Han is still horny for Leia. Damn right he wants her in that little field hockey skirt. 
> 
> The songs alluded to during Rey’s car ride with Mrs. Kandia are:  
> [Sixpence None the Richer – Kiss Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hII0JXUJNDo)  
> [Will Smith – Miami](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwBS6QGsH_4)
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)   
>  [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	49. wreck and resue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. March 1999. A surprise visit. A change of plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’m not supposed to listen. And I’m not trying to. But Mom and Amilyn are drinking wine together in the living room, reliving their college days, talking about everything in between then and now, and I’ve ventured downstairs to get something to eat from the kitchen. Dad’s out for the evening, drinking beer with Charlie down at the VFW. I’ve been doing homework and chatting on AIM with Poe and Finn.

But I can hear them. I’ve heard the occasional soft laughter, and now I can hear their voices, relaxed and happy.

“Jakku has been good. Really good, actually, for all of us. Benny’s done so much growing up since we got here, and Han and I were here to see it for a change. He’s doing so well in school. He got his driver’s license. His first job. So many friends. And watching him fall in love with Rey… It’s a wonderful thing to see the beginnings of the man he’ll be, Ami. None of it has been easy, but it’s what our family needed.”

“And you hit 20 years of service this year? Are you going to stay in?”

“I… you know, I haven’t thought about it. I probably should, huh? I’ve been so focused on Ben and now Rey, my career hasn’t exactly been at the forefront of my mind for once.”

Mom laughs wryly.

“I might stay in, at least until Ben’s done with college. Han wants to work again, too, when Ben leaves in the fall. Right now, we’re staying close to home. Ben’s so broken-hearted for Rey, and he needs our support.”

“It’s rare to see a young couple so devoted.”

Another laugh from my mom. “There’s _so much pining_. This teen romance business is not for the faint of heart.”

A snort escapes me at this statement, and I clap a hand over my mouth, but it’s too late.

“Benny? You spying on a couple of wine-drunk old ladies?” Mom calls, amused.

“Who are you calling old?” Amilyn retorts. “I’m in the prime of my life.”

I poke my head around the corner and hold up a bag of chips and a Coke. “I’m just getting a snack. You can gossip about my love life as soon as I go back upstairs.”

“And that’s why my grocery bill is out of control,” Mom mutters dramatically, making Amilyn laugh. “He’s an eating machine. I knew teenage boys could eat—I remember how Luke could demolish food, but a boy Ben’s size? I was _not_ prepared.”

“I heard that!” I shout at her as I head back up the stairs, and the only response I get is my mom’s laughter.

And when I’m downstairs again, an hour later, on a quest for more food—alright, my mom might have a point—she and Amilyn are still talking, but the tone is more serious. I find myself lingering, trying to hear what they have to say.

“There’s no reason that should have happened, Leia. I’ve reviewed the hearing records. It was the DCW lawyer, Quinn. He pushed and pushed until the hearing was put under Pryde, who _always_ rules in favor of sending kids into those group homes. I find it hard to believe that in ten years on the bench he hasn’t found one family acceptable to raise a child. Something else is at work here.”

“And you really think Rey’s case can help you prove that?”

“I do. To start, your home is reputable. Your family is reputable. There’s no good reason Rey shouldn’t be here this very minute.”

“But what about the larger issue? The way Rey and those other girls are being treated is utterly reprehensible. I know you can’t tell me specifics, but they keep them isolated, and I know Rey isn’t getting any of the medical checks or therapies she’s supposed to be having. We have to pay to see her every Sunday!”

“That’s the thing that’s harder to prove. Is it discipline or purposeful isolation? But given that the collection plate seems to be the key to seeing her…”

“They’re trying to keep those girls stuck inside. Why? For the DCW funds?”

“Precisely the question. I need to see where the money goes. I’ve seen Kandia’s paperwork. All the funds have been disbursed for Rey to see whatever doctor she needs. Kandia, shockingly, is not the one gumming the works here. I have questions about where that money is going, just as much as I have questions about Enric Pryde’s new BMW. I know what he makes; it’s a matter of public record.”

Fuck. Is that what Amilyn thinks is going on? Fraud? Embezzlement?

“The sooner Rey is out of there, the better,” Mom mutters. “Do you have enough sway to get her next custody hearing in front of a judge who might not have their hands full of dirty money?”

“I think I can avoid Pryde at the very least. I still have to make the case that Rey’s better off in Charlie’s care than in the group home. That little girl needs to be with people who love her before she does something foolish.”

“She’s like a feral cat these days, but if you knew her before, you’d be so astonished, Amilyn. She’s terribly sweet-natured at heart.”

That’s my Rey. Feral but sweet. I grab a jar of peanut butter, a banana, and a spoon, and I head back upstairs, turning over the details Amilyn shared with my mother.

And suddenly, it occurs to me.

It’s not my fault Rey is in that group home.

It’s nothing to do with Chandrila or my assault conviction. Sure, that’s not exactly greatest credential on my resume as a human, but it’s not the reason Rey was sent away.

I didn’t do this to her.

It’s not my fault.

I don’t even remember going to bed that night, I sleep so well.

+++

“Solo! Wait up,” Hux shouts, following me out into the courtyard in front of school.

It was another rough test in Mr. Tarkin’s class, and I am desperate to get the hell out of here and go blow off a little steam at the gym. Hitting some bags, followed by lifting weights until my muscles groan, seems like a perfect way to forget about differential equations for a little while. Poe and Finn will probably want to meet up for a run or N64 or something. I hope. Anything to get out of my head for a little while.

“Ugh, what?” I spit at Hux, rolling my eyes at the sight of him in his stupid sweater vest and khakis. This fucker probably swing dances for fun like a damned Gap commercial.

“Hey. So. Calc might actually destroy what’s left of my will to live. I wanted to ask you, do you want to study together sometime?”

Hux looks hesitant, as well he should.

“I’m barely hanging on in that shit show,” I say with a shrug. “The only reason I was getting through it this year was Rey.”

“Rey?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, Rey. You know she’s the only person who can interpret that antiquated textbook.”

“No, asshole, it’s Rey,” he says, pointing past me, and I turn around, startled to see Rey making her way down the front sidewalk, inconspicuous among the other students as she weaves through the bodies.

My heart’s in my throat, and I turn away from Hux to rush toward her. Her clothes are sticking to her where she’s sweated through them, and her face is grimy and streaked with salt. Without a second thought I grab her and pull her in for a desperate hug. Rey slumps against me, and I feel the relief bleeding out of her.

“Sweetheart, how did you get here?” I ask, afraid for her, cradling her against me, curling my fingers around the back of her neck, through sweaty tendrils of hair. “Did something happen?”

I pull back to look at her face, and she looks up at me, exhaustion etching shadows under her eyes, and I notice then the ugly green and purple bruises on the side of her face. Fuck.

“Take me home, Ben,” she whispers. “I need you. I need to call Charlie.”

I glance back and I see Hux standing there, staring in shock, and I glare at him. “You didn’t see anything.”

He shakes his head, holding up his hands as he backs away from us. He nods politely to Rey. “I saw nothing. See ya around, Solo.”

Okay. Okay. Oh, this isn’t good.

“What happened? Who hurt you?” I whisper angrily, slipping my arm around her waist and pulling her along with me to the parking lot.

She doesn’t resist in the slightest, having gone boneless the moment she touched me.

“Got into a fight with Mara,” she replies in a low voice.

She’s struggling to keep pace with me, and I wonder about her head. It’s clear to me she’s taken a blow to the head if she’s bruised like that, and I feel sickened. She doesn’t need a relapse.

“What the hell are you doing fighting?” I ask her.

When we get to my Wagoneer, I open the passenger door and help her step up and get seated. God, she’s limp as a noodle.

“I didn’t start the fight, Ben,” she grumbles at me, brushing the hair back out of her face. “She hit me first. Can you not scold me?”

I take a breath to steady myself and nod. She’s right. This is the wrong line of conversation entirely. I get in the driver’s side and give her a concerned look, but Rey just smiles at me tiredly. I don’t know where else to take her, so I head to Fort Windu with her to take her to my house. She doesn’t say much as she watches Jakku go by, but she does ask me about my day and gives me a sympathetic smile when I tell her how poorly Calculus is going without her. She’s the Tarkin-Whisperer, and all of Jakku High is suffering.

I breathe a sigh of relief seeing neither of my parents’ cars in the driveway. It’s far too early for Mom to be home, and Dad’s probably out at Charlie’s talking cars and looking over the Falcon. For once, I get Rey all to myself. And from the look of her, she needs some time to collect herself before dealing with an avalanche of questions from my parents or Charlie or anyone else.

She follows me into the house, takes her shoes off and I hold her arm carefully as she climbs the stairs. She’s not weaving, but she’s so tired I don’t trust her ability to make it on her own. And she doesn’t fight or complain that I’m hovering, which is the scary part.

“Rey, c’mon. How did you get to Jakku?”

It’s easily 50 miles. My parents and I drive to Niima once a week for church, and I’m more than familiar with the route. It’s just a lot of trees and highway, or alternately, a lot of dusty, winding backroads through endless sand pine forest that go through half-assed little communities that don’t have stoplights.

Rey glances at me with a slight smile, but I see the wariness in her eyes. She already knows I’m not going to like what she’s about to say.

“I walked some of it. Hitched a ride the rest of the way.”

“You hitch-hiked?” my voice is sharp, and my hand tightens on her arm in horror. “You fucking hitch-hiked? Have you lost your mind?”

Anyone could have picked her up. A serial killer. A trafficking con. Fucking hell. I love her so much, but I could shake her right now.

“Ben, I had to get out of there. They’ve had me on lockdown for two days after the fight. They say they called Kandia, but I didn’t get to talk to her. I need to talk to Amilyn and Charlie. I think I need to see a doctor,” she says to me, urgently. “I couldn’t risk staying in Niima. The cops there would just take me back to the group home.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” I demand.

Rey frowns, and she has that foggy look on her face I’ve seen occasionally since her fall. “Your mom was pretty clear that I shouldn’t disrupt your school day.”

“Do you think she meant for you to risk yourself like that? How long were you walking?”

“A few hours, I think. I stayed off the main roads as much as I could after I cut out of school. And don’t freak out, the lady who gave me a ride was totally harmless. She had picture of her grandkids taped to the dashboard of her car.”

I just grunt at her in displeasure, not at all pleased with her recklessness.

“I’m going to want the whole story from you, from start to finish,” I tell her, pausing outside my bedroom door.

I think maybe she will want to lay down and rest, but seeing the state of her, the sweaty, dirty clothes, her grimy face, maybe that’s for later.

“Do you want a shower? Or I can fix you something to eat?”

Rey closes her eyes and leans her forehead against my shoulder. “I want to take a bath. I haven’t had a nice bath in months.”

Damn it. I can’t be mad at her. I take a deep breath and try to gentle my voice.

“Okay. How’s your head? Do you need something for it?”

Rey shakes her head. “I’ve got some Tylenol in my bag. I’ll take that.”

She steps into the doorway of my bathroom, and I lean down to brush a light kiss against her lips. “Well, get started. I’ll go get some of my mom’s soaps and stuff. You know I don’t have any of that girly stuff in my bathroom.”

Rey smiles at me warmly, and I see the merest glimpse of her dimples. Good.

By the time I come back with an armful of Mom’s bubble bath and body wash and bath salts and bath bombs, each one fruitier and more flowery smelling than the next, Rey has undressed and is perched delicately on the edge of the bathtub, watching it fill with water. Her spine is a lovely line, and I admire the graceful curve of her slim waist, but she’s thinner than she was, and I think she must not be eating enough again. She glances over her shoulder at me with a smile, not retreating to hide her body from me, comfortable under my gaze. I want to look at her the rest of my life.

“I… I brought a variety. Figured you’d want to choose. I know Mom won’t mind you using her stuff.”

I hand Rey the bottles and containers, and she lines them up carefully on the edge of the tub, perusing them, as if this is one of life’s bigger choices. She opts to drop in a couple of bath beads, then adds a capful of strawberry-scented bubble bath under the running water. When the water starts to foam, Rey eases herself into the tub with a happy sigh, and she looks at me with golden-green eyes.

“Thank you, Ben,” she whispers, the look on her face beatific.

I kneel next to the tub, resting my chin on the ledge and look at her, letting my fingers trail in the water. I can’t bring myself to leave her side just yet and start making phone calls. It feels so good to have her here with me. It’s right. This is how it should be always. Me and her.

I close my eyes and after a moment, I feel her fingers ease through my hair, and I exhale a contented sigh as she rubs my head and my neck affectionately.

“Do you want to be alone?” I ask her eventually.

I know she doesn’t get any privacy anymore, not with being permanently stuck on Level 0 in her group home.

She makes a little sighing noise.

“No. I like having you here. Seeing you always makes me feel better. Why… why don’t you get in? I’ll wash your back,” she offers teasingly, touching my cheek before replying.

“I’m barely going to fit in that tub with you,” I laugh, sitting back and peeling off my tee shirt. “Then again, we always made it work at your place. And how about I wash your back?”

Rey’s eyes go wide as she looks from my face to my chest, her lips parting in surprise. Under her scrutiny, I grin broadly.

“Ben…” she finally says, her face turning pink. “You’ve been working out. A lot.”

I shrug nonchalantly, somehow holding back the impulse to flex for her dramatically, and I stand to unzip and wriggle out of my jeans and boxers. “Well… with you gone, I guess I go to the gym more. Helps me burn some energy so I can sleep.”

She gives my body an appreciative glance, and I clamber over the edge of the tub and into the warm, sudsy water, lowering myself until I’m sitting behind her with her cradled between my long legs. I grab a washcloth, and I soak it in the water and I industriously soap Rey’s arms while kissing her cheek, making her laugh.

I know I’m supposed to be a horny teenage boy, but I’m just so relieved to have her in my arms right now, I think I can wait until later to try my luck with her.

“Are you telling me I was holding you back from ultimate buffness?” she teases, sliding a hand down my leg to squeeze a solidly muscled thigh. “You’re massive!”

I can feel the back of my neck grow hot under her compliments. “Nah. I’m just lifting more, and to my parents’ horror, eating more.”

“Ben, is that even possible? Have mercy on your parents’ grocery bill,” she giggles, and she takes the washcloth from me and proceeds to wash the dirt from her face. After, she wets her hair, and I gently scrub some shampoo into her hair.

“That okay?” I ask, not wanting to hurt her head. I know the fracture must be healed by now. It has been close to four months, but with her headaches, I’m afraid of pressing on a sore spot.

“Mmm. Feels nice,” she affirms.

“So,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral, “What happened?”

Rey stills, and she absently sluices some water over her arms and shoulders, rinsing her skin. She dunks her head forward to rinse the shampoo from her hair, then pops back up with a deep breath.

“Well, um, like I said, I got in a fight with Mara, my roommate a couple days ago. She was being rude and jealous about me getting a letter from you, and I… I was rude back, and she slapped me. I punched her, and she came after me for that,” Rey says quietly, glancing over her shoulder at me as if to gauge my reaction. “Shoved me against a wall, and I must have hit my head and blacked out.”

“Th-that’s not good,” I exhale, pulling her closer to me, as if a kiss and a cuddle can make it all better. “How’s your head?”

“Bad. Hurts. Like always. It was useless trying to read at school this morning, so I cut out. Like hell I’m going back to that place.”

“Useless how? Your vision or…”

“Gets blurry when I’m tired, and I have a hard time focusing for long,” she admits. “And by the time I got to you, I didn’t think my legs were going to carry me another step, I was so tired.”

“When was the fight? A couple days ago? Why didn’t you--”

“I wasn’t well enough for school until today. Mara and I got put in isolation, anyway.”

“No doctor?”

She shakes her head. “Nope.”

Rage seeps into my bones. I want to snap their necks. I want to burn that group home to the ground. Rey must sense it, because she passes me a bottle of conditioner, and instead of yelling about it, I swallow my anger and gently work the conditioner into her hair. She rinses her hair, and together we climb out of the tub and wrap towels around ourselves.

“I don’t want you going back there,” I mutter, cupping her cheek in my hand. “Maybe Amilyn can do something. We need to call her, and Charlie, and I guess your case worker, too?”

Rey nods and slowly winds a towel around her wet hair, and when she looks up at me, she looks clean and pink-cheeked from the warmth of the bath. But so tired. I don’t know any girls at Jakku High who have eyes this tired. Despite everything, she still smiles at me so warmly, and she raises up on her toes to touch her lips to mine in a gentle kiss.

“Well, I guess we need to call her, too. They’re going to be looking for you,” I say after our lips part, opening the bathroom door and stepping out into the hallway with her.

My fingertips graze the nape of her neck. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to touch her, and I can’t help myself. I’m about to tell her that maybe we could delay any phone calls for twenty minutes or so when Rey stops short in front of me, and I bump into her clumsily, nearly knocking her down.

“Oh! Han! Hello…” she squeaks, and I turn my head to see my dad at the top of the stairs looking, well, looking surprised, embarrassed, frustrated, and beyond exasperated.

His eyes dart to look at the ceiling rather than at a teenage girl wrapped in a towel and his equally naked son.

“Get dressed. Come downstairs. You’re both in trouble.”

Well, shit.

But then again, yeah. We figured.

+++

“Rey.”

My dad rubs his hand across his face, looking weary and trying to unclench his jaw after getting a better look at the bruises on Rey’s face.

“Kiddo, you’ve got to stop doing this. I know you’re struggling, but skipping school? Hitch-hiking? Not good. You could have gotten yourself killed today, running around like that.”

“But, Han, I—”

“Nope. You’re gonna stop there, girly.”

Dad gives her a stern look, and Rey’s shoulders stiffen, and she looks at me in surprise. Dad’s never chastised her before, not really.

“Leia told you the last time you pulled a stunt that we don’t approve of either of you skipping school—”

“I didn’t skip school this time!” I protest, and Dad gives me a warning look that silences me immediately. I huff and flop back against the couch.

Rey’s hand creeps across the couch cushion seeking mine, and I hold it warmly. She’s dressed in soft sweatpants and a baggy tee shirt found among the belongings she couldn’t take with her that are now stored in our guest room closet. And to keep her warm, I’ve wrapped in one of my hoodies, and the soft, black fabric envelopes her. Knowing Rey, I won’t be getting it back any time soon. She likes to borrow, permanently borrow, my sweaters.

“Which will keep you from getting grounded again, I suppose,” Dad mutters before continuing, “Rey, the other issue is… when you do shit like this, you’re risking more than yourself. You’re risking us, too.”

Rey crumbles. I can feel it, and my hand tightens on hers, and I sit up, drawing closer to her. I shoot my dad a warning glare. I know he’s mad. I know why. But he’s edging close to hurting Rey, and I hear her sniffle.

“Oh, c’mon, kid. Don’t cry. You know we love you. It broke my damn heart when we didn’t get custody. And we know they aren’t taking good care of you at that group home,” he sighs, looking over the green and purple marks on her face. 

Dad kneels in front of her, patting her shoulder, looking entirely out of his depth at consoling a teenage girl. With me, he’s used to sarcasm, shouting, and me stomping around dramatically. I know Rey’s capable of the same; she’s told me about some of the scenes she’s had since entering the system, but she loves my parents too much to act that way. She’s too tender-hearted and afraid of losing their love.

“You know I have to call to your case worker. I wish I didn’t. We’re not supposed to have unsupervised contact with you, sweetheart. DCW could press charges. Please, tell me you understand that.”

Dad’s voice is gruff but kind, and he takes Rey’s free hand, and she meets his eyes and nods.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to come home,” Rey says in a small voice, and Dad nods, his eyes softening on her face, then looks back at me. He’s still pissed. I can tell from the clench of his jaw.

“And you. You know, a little warning would be great. The answering machine has five messages from the case worker, asking if we know where Rey is.”

I sigh. “I’m sorry. I… I just wanted to make sure Rey was okay first, before I made any calls.”

Dad rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I saw.”

Rey shakes her head.

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t like that. I was tired and dirty and…” she drifts off, my dad arching an eyebrow at her as he crosses his arms over his chest and stands back up.

He doesn’t even know how perfectly he’s mimicking Mom right now. They’ve been together so long they’ve adopted each other’s postures.

Dad shakes his head. “Know what? It’s none of my business.”

Now that Dad seems to be backing off, I slide an arm around Rey’s waist, and she leans into me, seeking comfort. I know she needs me to be strong for her right now. She’s exhausted to her bones, as if she’s been on high alert every minute of every day since going into the group home, and only now with me can she let go.

“Han, I need to call Amilyn and Charlie.”

“Right. Right.” He runs a hand through his hair, stressed. “I’m gonna call the case worker and Leia. And you two? Go ahead and use Ben’s cell phone to make your calls.”

+++

Charlie’s the first to make it to our house, still in his mechanic’s coveralls, looking flustered. His smile at seeing Rey curled up next to me on the couch turns to dismay when he sees her bruised face.

“You can’t go getting into fights, girly. It’s not right for girls to be fighting like wildcats,” he grumbles, kneeling in front of the couch and pulling her into his arms for a hug.

Rey leans into him, laughing a sad little noise. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t go looking for a fight, I swear.”

“What kind of place are these people running where young girls are knocking each other out? Your poor head can’t take this right now.”

He pulls back to inspect her face more closely and gets back up to his feet with a groan that shakes the floor, muttering to himself and to us, “Well. That Amilyn, she on the way?”

Rey and I are waiting in the kitchen with Charlie, and Rey is picking at some leftover chicken and rice casserole while I pillage through a heaping plate like a conquering warlord. Charlie frets over her until she tells him she doesn’t have much of an appetite anymore, not since the accident. Eating too much makes her queasy, she says. Well, that explains the way her ribs felt under my fingertips in the bath.

When Mom had hurried in, breathless, she was still in her uniform, still wearing her boots, as if she didn’t have a moment to spare. She’d said hello to Charlie and hugged Rey fiercely before pulling back to get a look at the bruises on the side of Rey’s face.

“So this is what they let happen to you?” Mom growls. “Someone hits you, and that’s okay? They don’t even take you to a doctor, knowing your history?”

Rey sighs, “I hit her, too. Gave her a black eye.”

Mom looks at the ceiling, and I know she’s silently counting to ten to compose herself. “You know that’s not okay, Rey.”

“I know, but… she did hit me first,” Rey replies softly, fading a little under my mother’s disapproval.

“I told you boxing wasn’t the same as fighting,” I add, perhaps unhelpfully, from the other side of the kitchen as I rummage for something else to eat.

“It’s not,” Rey agrees. “She came at me so fast, I didn’t know what to do. Mara’s really strong.”

“And until you’re recovered, you shouldn’t be taking swings you can’t back up,” I grouse at her, and I hear an annoyed huff in response, which makes Charlie chuckle and my mom groan.

Maybe Rey wants cookies. I hold up a packet of Chips Ahoy, kept in the bottom cupboard, where Mom likes to squirrel away the treats she thinks Dad and I don’t know she’s secretly snacking on. Or maybe it’s because she doesn’t want us to eat her snacks. In which case, she needs a better hiding spot.

“Ben!”

That’s the sound of true shock. Yes, I know where the snacks are, Mom, I think slyly, as I set the cookies down on the table in front of Rey. But when Rey takes a cookie and nibbles at it, she forgets to scold Rey about her fighting.

Mrs. Kandia and Amilyn Holdo arrive at the same time, and they all but snarl at each other as they bustle into the kitchen, followed by my dad. Holdo had told Rey over the phone that she’d start on an emergency custody order with Charlie, the only problem being that emergency custody can take up to fifteen days.

Kandia’s red-faced with anger and is officially on her last nerve. Holdo looks full of purpose. And Rey? Rey looks up at them, wide-eyed with a cookie stuffed in her mouth.

“Mmf, hello,” she mumbles, waggling her fingers at Kandia and giving a serious look Holdo’s way.

Honestly, I’m impressed that Kandia is showing so much restraint, when I can tell she wants to jerk Rey out of that chair and drag her outside to the car this very minute.

“I swear to g—” Kandia starts to mumble under her breath, trying to center herself.

Mom hovers behind Rey, a protective hand on her shoulder, and Charlie’s to one side of her. I think he’s starting to realize that being a Solo means lots of family meetings.

“Why don’t we all sit down?” I interject, making the roomful of women look at me, and the tension between the four sizzles dangerously.

My dad is standing at the edge of the kitchen, and he gives me a look that tells me I’m either really brave or really stupid, but either way, he’s proud of me.

But they do. They do sit down, and Dad and I tentatively join them. I squeeze in next to Rey and find her hand, lacing my fingers through hers, hoping she can feel how much I love her. We all eye each other as if we’re in a spaghetti Western.

“Please, don’t make me go back to the group home,” Rey blurts out, looking between Kandia and Holdo. “I hate it there, and they won’t take me to see a doctor, and my head’s still not right.”

“Mrs. Daala has been resourced the funds to pay for your medical needs, and she’s seen the recommendations,” Kandia says, opening her case file. “She tells me they’re following them to the letter, and that you have, in fact, already seen a doctor. Twice.”

“N-no, that’s a lie. I haven’t seen a doctor since January. Did she tell you I got knocked out two days ago?”

Kandia recoils slightly, her eyebrows lifting. “She said you got into a minor scuffle with another girl. That you were faking injuries to get attention.”

Amilyn’s listening and taking notes. My parents and Charlie are doing their utmost not to lunge across the table at the case worker.

“I’m not faking,” Rey exhales in shock. “The other girl hit my head against the wall, and I blacked out. I don’t know how long I was out; woke up in an isolation room, and I couldn’t see straight for hours. I asked for a doctor, because I in so much pain, and they said I was faking to get out of being punished.”

Kandia and Amilyn have had at least a phone call or two, because Amilyn turns to her with a pleasantly neutral expression.

“If you don’t personally take Ms. Sands to a doctor for evaluation, I am going to file charges against the group home, _and then you_ , for medical negligence. Do you understand?”

Kandia glares at her. “Yes. I was told she was receiving appropriate medical care, and given Rey’s behavior problems, they told me was either outright lying or exaggerating any issues. I’d like to see this resolved, so yes, I’ll take her.”

“Can someone come with me?” Rey blurts. She glances from me to Charlie. “Can Ben? Or Charlie?”

I squeeze her hand, and she looks up at me, her hazel eyes steady and serious. But I feel that old panic, that old sense of not being up to the task. I’m not 18. I’m not an authority figure. I’m just her borderline useless teenage fiancé. Secret fiancé, at that. Wow. The power. Sometimes I cannot fathom the trust and love she puts in me.

“It might be best if I go with you, Rey,” Amilyn says gently, her eyes full of compassion. “If the emergency custody order goes through, in the future, Charlie can take you to the doctor, okay?”

“Emergency custody order? Wha—fine. You may as well come to the appointment,” Kandia grouses. “I have a sense it’ll save us some time and bickering if we’re all on the same page about Rey’s health.”

Charlie clears his throat and glares at the case worker, grumbling, “If this young lady doesn’t get the treatment she needs, there’ll be hell to pay, you hear me?”

Kandia turns even more purple than Amilyn’s hair. At this point, I don’t know if she’s embarrassed for all the failures to be turning up so obviously or upset that one of her charges is at risk or both.

Amilyn waves her hand dismissively at Kandia, as if she’s just a minor nuisance. A gnat.

“I’ll be at the appointment. And we’ll discuss any medical determinations the doctor makes about what she needs for daily care, as well as any impacts on her schooling. I recommend an appointment with a specialist, for the record. And if you don’t book it, I will.”

Kandia glares, muttering, “Obviously. I’m doing the best I can with the resources available to me. And when Ms. Sands isn’t shouting at me or throwing office supplies, I’m more than happy to complete paperwork and make appointments for her.”

“Then get on with it. It’s been almost two months. I’m tired of feeling awful,” Rey snaps, and my parents’ and Charlie’s heads bob upward in surprise, and they look at each other before giving Rey a wary glance.

Kandia presses her hands on the table, looking weary as she stands up, clearly done with the discussion.

“Alright. Unfortunately, you have to go back to Niima tonight, Ms. Sands. There’s no change in custody as of this moment, regardless of the emergency filing, and I need to schedule a doctor’s appointment for you. Say goodbye and apologize to the Solos for troubling them today. Ms. Holdo, I’ll call you in the morning to confirm Rey’s appointment.”

“She’s no trouble,” Dad says, giving Rey a chagrined smile, then glancing at Kandia, who, as ever, is distinctly unamused.

“Liar,” Rey tells him fondly, her glare softening for him. “That’s not what you said earlier. But I am sorry for the stress. All I wanted was to come _home_.”

Rey squeezes my hand. She wanted to come home to me. I can live with that. I’ll hold onto that.

Dad smiles regretfully, and Mom leans in to whisper something to Rey’s lawyer, while Rey and I stand from the table. The tension I’d eased from her earlier is creeping back into her neck and shoulders. I can see it in the way she moves. Slower. Stiffer. As if she’s bracing herself to face the world. A couple hours of safe harbor is all she gets for now.

“Before you take her, can we borrow Rey for a few moments? We’d like to photograph the bruises on her face. You can have prints for your records, as well, the next time you suggest the group home in Niima as a good place for a young person,” Holdo says crisply, and I see my mom push away from the table and disappear out of the kitchen. Fetching a camera, probably. “Rey, can you come over here in the light? Let’s see that face of yours, miss.”

+++

It’s hard to watch Rey go. Again. Her face pale through the passenger-side window of Mrs. Kandia’s car. There was nothing we could do to stop it. This powerless feeling is getting old.

Amilyn looks at me sidelong, eyes clever and sharp as they study my face. My parents are in the kitchen, making coffee. I suppose grown-up conversation is about to happen amongst the three of them. I’ll be sent off to mope and do homework upstairs.

“On a scale of one to ten, how stubborn is Rey?”

“Eleven.”

She snorts slightly and shakes her head. “That’s about what I thought. That can be an excellent trait, depending on the situation.”

Amilyn sets out a few folders, and she grabs a notebook and pen. She’s never far from either. She takes copious notes, as if her mind is constantly bubbling up ideas and thoughts and connections and strategies. About Rey. About her other, mysterious case against the group home. About the other clients she must have. She’s steps ahead of everyone, I realize, watching her. It’s fascinating, really.

“Can I ask you some questions, Ben?”

“As a lawyer? Or…?”

She smiles at me approvingly. “Clever. I’m asking as a friend of Rey’s. I want to get your gut sense about her.”

I nod slightly. “Sure.”

“If Rey stays in that group home, what do you think is going to happen?”

I grimace.

“Nothing good. She… she was recovering so well before she went in, you know? And now, she’s… she’s moodier, and her symptoms are stronger, and she… I don’t know. She’s freaking out. She knows she’s getting worse, and she’s scared. And she’s afraid of being weak in front of people she doesn’t trust, which is pretty much everyone but me, my parents, and Charlie. I think she could get hurt or end up dropping out of school.”

“And what do you think she needs?”

I look at my hands. I think of Rey’s tired eyes, too full of worry and stress, and I think about how not entirely herself she’s been since the accident. I don’t want to go against her wishes, but my gut tells me she’s maybe not ready right now to fully be on her own.

“She needs to be with people who love her and can help her. People who understand her.”

Amilyn hums slightly in thought. “Thank you, Ben. That was helpful.”

I can see her quicksilver mind is darting off in another direction already.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

She gives a slight nod, barely looking up at me as she continues to make annotations in her little notebook.

“What do you like about being a lawyer?”

Amilyn pauses for a long beat, and when she looks at me, her expression is thoughtful.

“At first, I loved the intellectual rigor. Understanding legalese and unraveling it to find the core truth. It’s fascinating. And then, as I tried more and more cases, I realized that the elegance of law and the philosophical exercise of knowing that core truth isn’t enough. It has to have an application. And that’s where people come in. People live under laws. Good laws. Bad laws. But they have to live.”

I’m not sure I’m following, but I nod, anyway. Amilyn’s musing, almost to herself.

“I like to think of my work as helping people find their way through a forest of laws so they can live happy, productive lives.”

“People like Rey.”

“Precisely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are on the precipice of change.
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
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	50. course correction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey’s POV. March 1999. Prognosis. The hearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Kandia picks me from the group home before sunup, briskly polite but casting disapproving glances at the staff and Mrs. Daala, who had gathered to make tutting noises as if they were concerned about my well-being while also insinuating this is all a massive misunderstanding, and maybe even my fault for not trying hard enough to get along with Mara or the other girls.

I’m not sure what there is to misunderstand. Even Kandia gets it now.

At least the group home staff didn’t force me to return to the room I’d been sharing with Mara, instead letting me stay in the tiny single room typically reserved for girls in lockdown.

“It seems,” Mrs. Kandia says when we’re in her car and pulling out of Niima, “that there are more discrepancies than I realized. Mrs. Daala is claiming expenses, but she never submits receipts.”

Huh. I guess that’s her way of apologizing. That and the sleeve of chocolate mini donuts and a bottle of milk she’d tossed my way.

Amilyn meets us in the parking lot outside the Hosnia University Medical Center, looking as polished and unfrazzled as ever in her indigo power suit and perfectly coiffed lavender hair as she trails us into the vast medical complex, through a maze of corridors and into the Hosnia Neurology Clinic. It’s intimidating, really, how large this place is, how shiny and new everything looks, but Amilyn isn’t fazed by any of it.

I wish I could have just a little of the confidence she and Leia have when facing the world. Right now, I’m in a building bigger and taller and newer than anything I’ve ever seen in Jakku, surrounded by experts, and I’m just a kid in a baggy sweatshirt and jeans with frayed hems whose head hurts.

When I see the neurology clinic’s sign, my feet slow, tennis shoes squeaking on immaculate white tile, as if my feet know that I’m not ready for today. I want it. I want help. But what if the doctors have no good news? What if this is it? What if they don’t find any reason behind my problems? What if--?

“Let’s get you checked in,” Amilyn says, as if she senses my body tensing, preparing to run the other way, and she catches my elbow and propels me in front of her, giving me no choice but to go forward.

Mrs. Kandia accompanies me while Amilyn sits in the waiting area, and what follows is one of the longest days of my life.

The genial-faced doctor and the nurse assisting him conduct one neurological test after another, assessing my strength, reflexes, coordination, balance, hearing, and everything else. I’m poked and prodded, I turn my head on command as they press here and there on my neck, they shine lights in my eyes and see how receptive I am to smells and noises, and they tap my knees and elbows with little hammers, making me jerk in response. They make me balance on one foot and touch my nose, and they even assess the grip strength in my hands.

When they’re done with that, I’m sent to a neuropsychologist for cognitive testing to check my memory and concentration, as well as to assess my mental status. Admittedly, I have been moody and far more prone to outbursts like the one I had at the courthouse, but I don’t know if that’s my head sometimes, or if that’s just because I’ve had enough. I guess the worrying thing is that I can’t really tell anymore what’s me and what’s the injury.

And finally, I undergo another CT scan so they can compare what my brain looks like now to what it was like four months ago after I fell off the roof.

It’s a long morning, but by lunch time, the neurologist is telling me I have something called Post-Concussive Syndrome.

“Usually, we see concussion symptoms reduce steadily over time, taking no more than six weeks after an injury,” the lead neurologist says, handing me some printouts he’s made. Kandia’s listening quietly in the chair next to mine. “But you did have a particularly severe fracture. The original CT shows us two sites of impact on your skull, and women are more likely to have a relapse of concussive symptoms.”

Knowing my luck, I probably slipped on the roof and hit my head, then cracked it again when I fell and landed on the ground.

“What about the new CT? What does it say?”

“Well, I don’t see anything new. The swelling is reduced. The fractures are healed. And there’s no bleeding, which is excellent news. But there are still signs of trauma. You had another head injury a few days ago, I gather?”

“Yes, and I blacked out.”

“Now, that at least did not give you another fracture, from what the scan shows me. However, until you’ve fully recovered, it isn’t going to take much trauma to cause relapses or loss of consciousness.”

“What would you say caused the relapse?” Mrs. Kandia asks, tapping her pen on her notebook. “Rey had been making good progress.”

“Ah yes. Well, I see Rey had been allowed to return to school part time, which, admittedly, was a bit premature in my opinion. That certainly overtaxed her. Beyond that, things like stress can harm a patient’s progress, as well as overly taxing mental or physical work, and sometimes health pre-conditions. Rey doesn’t have any of those, so I’d have to point to the first two.”

I glance sideways at Mrs. Kandia, but she doesn’t return the look, her jaw stiffening.

“Think of recovery in this fashion. Say you have an empty bucket you’re trying to fill with water from a garden hose. The hose is steadily filling the bucket, but someone keeps coming by and scooping out cups of water. Over time, the bucket might fill completely, but that depends on how fast and how often water is being scooped out.”

“I see.” Kandia nods politely.

“Rey, you say your day begins well enough. What are the points where you start feeling your symptoms?”

I’ve already explained this so many times before, but I do it again.

“Um, well, my head always hurts, but it gets worse when I’ve been on my feet too long or reading too long. Exposed to too much noise. Um, when I’m upset. And, um, sometimes I’m just not thinking clearly. Or too slowly, rather.”

“There you go. Exhaustion. Stress. That’s too many cups of water out of your bucket,” he says with a kindly smile.

“I’m going to write you a prescription for a sleep aid and a painkiller for your headaches. In the meantime, however, I do recommend that you withdraw from school. If you have an after-school job, I’d step back from that as well. And no sports, and especially no activities where there’s a risk of hitting your head.”

I must make an unhappy face because he gives me a consoling smile.

“I know. Making up school credits isn’t going to be easy. It’s not ideal when I’m sure you’d like to graduate high school and be like all the other kids. But what you really need to do is relax, heal your brain, and get a fresh start in the fall.”

Well. It’s not like things were going so hot for me at Niima High School anyway. I should have known I wasn’t ready to be back in school when my make-up grades were so awful for my last semester at Jakku High, despite my determination and desperation to feel normal again, even when it meant that I’d spend the afternoon and evening in pain for the effort.

“So that’s it? I just… sit and wait to heal?”

“It won’t be forever,” the doctor says with a friendly smile, looking up from my charts. “If you follow the treatment plan, the symptoms should clear up within six months.”

I try to remind myself that I’m excellent at waiting. Olympic-class, really, but it’s just so disappointing. What exactly am I going to do for six months while I wait for my brain to either heal? I know this diagnosis is technically good for the emergency custody filing, but part of me wonders if I’ll ever really heal. If this is it, and I’ll just have to learn to live with headaches and everything else. I suddenly feel unmoored.

“There are some therapies that may help. Let me…”

And so it goes. He writes referrals for vestibular therapy for my balance and coordination and cognitive remediation therapy to help me think better and faster again, and I’m to return to his office in two weeks to see if my sleep and headaches have improved. I’m officially a disaster, I think wryly. A brain-damaged disaster who’s too useless to even attend high school. Ugh.

Amilyn takes a copy of my records from Mrs. Kandia, and as we walk back to the parking lot, for once, we’re all on the same side.

“No group home is going to be able to keep Rey, given her condition. She needs more care than they’re designed for,” Kandia states seriously, looking between Amilyn and me with a weary expression on her narrow face, as if she’s heard enough to ruin her day, and perhaps even her week. “The residential facility is only for temporary stays, and we can’t take her there. And honestly? I have no idea how long it would take for me to find a foster family willing to take a teenager with medical needs.”

“I figured as much,” Amilyn replies smoothly. “Given that, can Rey and I trust in your support for the emergency custody filing?”

She sighs.

“Yes. I’ll tell the judge DCW is out of options for her in this region of the state and give my recommendation in favor of Mr. Bacalieri.”

“Why couldn’t you do that for the Solos?” I say impulsively, and Amilyn’s hand rests on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. _Stop_ , she seems to be saying. _Let it go_. But I can’t. “You ignored what I wanted!”

Kandia’s mouth tightens into a thin line, but after a moment, her shoulders slump and she looks defeated.

“Rey. When I met you, you could barely string a sentence together. What you wanted and what you needed were two different things. I thought the group home would be good for you based on the information I had. I gave you the best placement I could find. Full stop. It is clear, however, that it does not meet your needs.”

Or any person’s needs. Any person with feelings and a desire to be treated with respect.

If I had a pencil cup, I would throw it at her without a moment’s hesitation. Amilyn gives my shoulder another squeeze, and instead of slapping papers out of Kandia’s hands or saying something rude, I take a shaky breath and look pointedly at the ground. Better than looking at her face.

“I’m going back to Jakku and completing the paperwork today. It’ll be submitted first thing Monday morning.”

“I’ll take Rey for her prescriptions and make the therapy appointments,” Kandia’s voice is crisp, and I nod. “And in the meantime, you’ll have to continue in the group home until your custody status changes, unless I can pull strings and get you a bed at the res facility.”

“Could you check in this week?” I ask. “Make sure they’re following through?”

“Gonna throw anymore office supplies at me?” Kandia snarks, and Amilyn holds back a laugh. She gives us a little wave and winks at me as she heads back to her car, apparently on her way back to Jakku.

“Maybe I’ll throw something else,” I mutter, getting into the passenger seat of her car.

+++

The week drags interminably. Mrs. Kandia had left sternly worded orders with Mrs. Daala and the group home staff, and for once, they’ve listened. However, that means long stretches by myself in my room, no school, and nothing beyond the simplest chores. At least the sleep aid knocks me out at night, so that’s eight hours fewer I spend staring at the ceiling.

Despite everything, despite being told about my diagnosis, no one ever asks me how I’m feeling. The other girls look at me with mixed envy and curiosity at the dinner table each night, obviously treated differently, and perhaps they can sense I’m on the verge of freedom, but no one asks me any questions, and so I don’t offer any information. I’ve been here two months, and everyone is still a stranger.

Mara steers clear of me, her eye a mottled yellow and green where I decked her, and I wouldn’t say the looks she gives me are friendly, but they’re less hostile. Marginally.

Somewhere around mid-week, she brushes past me in the hall and mutters, “Sorry,” under her breath, as if she can’t bear for anyone to hear it.

I turn my head to stare after her, but before I can think too deeply, a staff member calls for me.

“Rey! Phone call from your lawyer,” he says, motioning for me to follow quickly into the staff office. We take all our important calls in there, away from the other girls.

Amilyn’s voice sparks with excitement, adding an extra note of life to her usual easy, confident tone.

“Monday, kiddo. You got something nice to wear in court?”

“Wha—really? So fast? I thought you said it could take up to fifteen days?”

“It surely can, but someone owed me a favor, and I was able to slot you in.”

“Who’s the judge? Please tell me it’s not…”

“Oh, _hell no_ , Rey,” Amilyn says with vehemence, making me laugh. “Technically, I could have gotten you in a hearing sooner, but it would have been Pryde overseeing things. Monica Mothma’s going to review your case. She’s tough, but she’s reasonable.”

“Oh my god,” I exhale, leaning forward and burying my face in my free hand. “Should I… should I pack? Do you think that would be… I don’t know. Should I wait and see?”

Amilyn pauses for a long moment. Long enough I feel apprehension build in my stomach like a lead ball.

“Pack your bags, Rey,” she says decisively after a moment.

The lead ball disintegrates. Just another few days. I can do this.

+++

Standing on the courthouse steps, waiting for Amilyn, looking up at the stately building with its tall columns, I think I’m going to be sick. Again. I’ve been nervous for days, unable to eat, and heaving up most of what I consume. I know Amilyn’s confident, but I’ve been through this before. I know what can go wrong. I know what it’s like when the world turns upside down.

I already feel worn out and edgy from desperately guarding that flicker of hope.

Trusting in Amilyn, however, I’d packed my bags. I’d turned in my linens. And on an impulse, I grabbed the packet of information Winter gave me, and I slipped it under the door of the room I used to share with Mara.

I don’t like her. But I think that maybe she’s been pushed to the edge, too.

I fold my arms over my stomach, trying desperately to settle my nerves, shifting on antsy feet, as I realize it is Ben’s birthday.

This time last year, everything had been so new. We’d been shyly getting to know each other, slowly sharing our hearts and tentative kisses, afraid of ourselves and each other and the intensity of feelings we’d sensed would change our lives. We’d had no idea. None. Clearly. How could we?

_I’d held his hand at church yesterday, and we’d slipped away to share a few kisses behind the admin building, like always, and I’d felt the anxiety as he held me close, trying to ramble about school or our friends or anything else that wasn’t was going to happen on Monday. His birthday. My hearing day. The longer he talks, the more breathless he is, and I realize he’s spiraling, so I kiss him until he stops._

_“Ben! Ben, it’s going to be alright,” I assure him. “You’ll see. Amilyn seems so confident. I’ll call you as soon as it’s done.”_

_“What if…” he drifts off, his crooked, handsome face going into a full brood._

_I trace his lower lip with the flat of my thumb. I feel it, too. The anxiousness. There’s always this gloom in me that presses back against the bubble of hope that keeps me going. Every day is a push and a pull in my mind. Hope. Despair. Fear. Happiness._

_“What if the judge rules to keep me within the system and I get shipped hours away to another residential facility or group home that can handle a girl with a broken brain?” I ask, throwing the worst thing I can think of out into the open._

_It’s a roadkill statement. Gruesome as you drive by, but who can look away from the carnage? Not me. Ben winces._

_“Don’t say that. And your brain isn’t broken.”_

_“Scratched and dented, fine.”_

_He smiles at that and kisses my forehead. If kisses could heal, I’d be unstoppable._

_“I can’t handle the thought of you being taken away. And yeah, I’m freaking out. Apparently, I’ve been a complete asshole all week, too. So they say. Well, so Finn says. Well, what he said was, ‘Solo, if you can’t chill out, I’m going to shove this game controller up your ass so far, you’ll be playing Mario Kart with your teeth.’”_

_I snort slightly._

_“Okay, maybe you do need to calm down. If Finn is threatening you, you’ve gone way too far.”_

_Threats from Rose are commonplace. And damned if she won’t follow through. Poe likes to challenge and place bets. But an honest-to-god threat of bodily harm from Finn Storm? I don’t even want to know what Ben said or did. I know I’m on Finn’s side with this one._

_Ben makes a sulky noise, and I nudge him in the ribs._

_“Hey, come on. Tomorrow’s your birthday. That’s good, right? You’ll be eighteen. Legal.”_

_I waggle my eyebrows at him suggestively, and his chest shakes as he tries to keep himself from laughing._

_“Kind of scandalous for me to date a girl your age, isn’t it?”_

_“Oh yeah. Totally questionable, Solo. Aaaanyway, I was thinking that maaaybe, if things go well tomorrow,” I say softly, glancing up at him, “Can I call you? I know Charlie will let me use his phone.”_

_“Can you—” Ben looks puzzled, and he brushes his fingertips over my cheek. “You never have to ask if you can call!”_

_I flush. I mean, I know Ben wouldn’t reject a phone call from me. I just… argh. Come on, brain. Be clear. This is always the point where I get frustrated with myself. My thoughts just stick sometimes._

_“Yeah, I know… I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Just that everything’s been all about me for months and months, and now I’m having another one of my big dramatic moments on your birthday. Your day, Ben. It should be about you. And I want it to be.”_

_“The next year and a half of your life is getting decided tomorrow, and it’s basically a coin-flip, and you’re worried about me having a nice birthday?”_

_Ben’s voice escapes him, slightly choked. I can’t tell if he’s trying not to laugh at me, or if he’s trying to hold back a sound of distress. Maybe be both._

_When our eyes meet, I just nod. “Well… yeah, Ben.”_

Mrs. Kandia and Charlie are already here at the courthouse with me. Mrs. Kandia always has a sour face as if she is mere moments from slapping somebody, but she and I had managed not to bicker during the car ride from Niima. Charlie is as meticulously dressed as I’ve ever seen him, wearing a suit jacket and tie, and his beard has been trimmed back considerably. He huffs nervously and shifts his weight.

“Not having second thoughts are you, Charlie?” I tease him, trying to dispel my own noxious levels of anxiety, and he stills, pulled out of whatever thoughts had ensnared his attention.

“What? No! Never, little lady. Just a little nervous. I’ve got your room set up at home. Leia came over and helped. She brought your things.”

He nods so earnestly, this great grizzly bear of a man. I remind myself, probably for the hundredth time already, and it’s only 10 a.m., that Amilyn says today will go well. Probably.

“I can’t wait. I promise not to drive you crazy with my wild teenager ways. No loud music or wild parties. I might even come home before curfew.”

He laughs and tugs uncomfortably at his jacket sleeves. “Girly, I expect you’ll make the rest of my hair gray before the year is out. I worry about you even when you’re doing math homework.”

When Amilyn arrives, she grins at Charlie, and politely greets Mrs. Kandia. When she looks over me, she grins, “You look like you’re ready to be your own counsel today. Did Leia bring you that?”

I smile brightly. Leia had shown up to church yesterday with a garment bag and a glowing determination in her eyes that I’ve seen before. It’s the same look that always makes Ben and Han avert their eyes and show their bellies. I know by now to follow suit and let Leia have her way.

_“Sweetheart, I know we can’t be there tomorrow, but I want you to know that we’re with you in spirit. I want you to feel confident and powerful, the way a young woman should. I think this should fit…”_

Thanks to Leia, I’m in a navy pencil skirt, a sleeveless ivory blouse, and a navy cardigan. For added confidence, I’ve slipped on my opal necklace from Ben and my engagement ring. Whenever I feel like I’m going to lose my breakfast, I touch the delicate wings of the blue enamel butterfly, and I’m comforted by the promise of my future. No matter what happens, I have Ben. And thanks to Leia, I do feel confident. The last time I’d been in court, I’d felt like a junk heap wearing those ill-fitting borrowed clothes from DCW.

+++

It’s the same courtroom as before.

_This is not that day_ , I tell myself.

Quinn is back to represent DCW, and he’s looking sour, muttering impatiently under his breath until Judge Mothma walks in. Whatever rapport he had with Pryde simply doesn’t exist with the calm and collected Judge Mothma. She calls us to order, and as my stomach lurches uncertainly and I clench my hands together in my lap, palms clammy, the hearing begins.

“Thank you, your honor,” Amilyn says neutrally, as casually as if she’s asking about the weather.

“Per the Emergency Custody filing completed earlier this week, Charles Bacalieri is seeking custody of minor child Rey Sands. Rey is a family friend of his and a former employee at his auto repair shop. He is seeking custody due to the ongoing negligence of Rey at her DCW-licensed group home.”

Amilyn begins to define the negligence. Living this experience is one thing. It’s another to hear it methodically recited as Amilyn strolls casually from our table to DCW’s table and to the judge’s bench to provide the documented evidence. I feel small.

Lack of medical care resulting in health problems.

Lack of supervision resulting in an assault on the minor child.

Lack of communication between the group home and the case worker.

Isolation of minor child from supportive relationships.

Lack of educational support for minor child.

Refusal to accept medical advice for minor child.

I really, truly hate the phrase “minor child.”

I know she’s making it clear how poorly the group home has treated me, and I suppose that’s the point. She has to prove, beyond any doubt, that I can’t remain in the group home. Honestly, Amilyn is terrifying in her methodical precision.

I worry at the blue butterfly on my finger. Charlie gives me a sympathetic glance, and after Amilyn tackles what makes Charlie, with his military service record, community work, successful auto repair business, and friendship with me a good candidate for guardianship, it’s Charlie’s turn to make a statement.

Everyone’s eyes dart upward as he stands, his extraordinary height dwarfing everyone in the room as he takes the stand, swears his oath, and sits. Judge Mothma looks marginally amused to see such a bear-like figure, but she motions for him to proceed.

Charlie looks at me and clears his throat, turning the sheet of paper in his hands over. He squares his shoulder, and he gives me a little nod, and I see in him the senior NCO who managed his fellow soldiers, who kept an eye on young Han Solo, and who’s been a steady presence in the life of his employees and their families. 

“Ah. I suppose the court wants to know why I’d want to take in a teenage girl who’s not a blood relation,” he starts. “Well, you see, to me this young lady is family. My late wife, Marcy, was a friend of her grandmother’s. I know for a fact Marcy would want me to give Rey a home. But it’s more than that. I like Rey, and she deserves a safe place to live where someone cares about her.”

He gives me a little smile and continues.

“She’s a smart, hardworking girl. Good-natured, too, and always willing to laugh at an old man’s bad jokes. I like spending time with her. She’s helped me work on cars, and she’s got a curious mind, always wanting to know more. I tell her my old war stories, and she tells me about school.

“Last summer, when I’d heard she was needing money, I gave her a job at my auto shop. She’s too proud to take a handout, so she took the work and earned her way. When she had her accident last November, and I found out about her living situation, it darn near broke my heart, because I’ve grown to think of her as something like a granddaughter. That little gal means a lot to me. I’d do just about anything to make sure she feels safe and loved.”

Charlie’s blue eyes meet mind directly when he says that, and I feel the full force of his affection. It warms me. It steadies me.

I get a turn to deliver my statement, as well, and under Judge Mothma’s calm, neutral gaze, I speak clearly, confidently, of my wish to live with someone I consider family. My story’s not so different from Charlie’s, but when I’m done reading my statement out loud, as I rise to leave the stand, I pause.

Amilyn looks at me curiously. She’d helped me review and edit my statement, and as far as she knows, I’ve said all there is to say. That I admire Charlie and trust him. That he is a good teacher and friend. But it’s not all.

“Oh… I have one more thing I’d like to say about Charlie. Um. He knew my grandmother. He even met my mother. I never knew either of them. But somehow, I feel like I was supposed to know Charlie my whole life. He was supposed to have been there all along. Maybe if things had been different between, that would have happened. Maybe in some alternate universe, I get to have Charlie as family from the beginning. Um, but now, I feel like this is right. Finding Charlie was…” I flush slightly, trying to think of the right word.

There it is. I know now.

“It was serendipity. Charlie and I were always supposed to be family.”

I give Charlie a smile, and Amilyn catches my eye, giving me a little smile of approval, as well.

Maybe it’s Amilyn. Maybe it’s Judge Mothma. Maybe it’s Mrs. Kandia, but the rest of the hearing is calm and lacking contention. Quinn doesn’t have anything to work with. No theatrics. No accusations.

Mrs. Kandia is as good as her word, recommending my release into Charlie’s care. She’ll still check on me monthly until I’m eighteen, and I’ll still have to do case reviews with her until then, but she makes it clear that DCW doesn’t have anyone who can take me in my condition. 

When Quinn tries to argue the point, Holdo shuts him down immediately.

“Mr. Quinn, what you’re suggesting would cause Ms. Sands to be relocated on the other side of the state. According to the law, she is entitled to stay in her own community, provided there is a reasonable source of care. I think we have established Mr. Bacalieri’s qualifications on that account.”

Well then. I bite my lip and try not to laugh as his eyes spark with fury.

It doesn’t take Judge Mothma long to deliberate. She rifles through the documents one last time, and she quietly studies Charlie and me from behind the stand for a while, as if she can get the measure of our characters.

When she finally speaks, her voice is gentle but still carries a command that makes everyone freeze and pay attention.

“Ms. Sands, I am terribly sorry for what you have endured these past months. It seems to me DCW needs to revisit its standards for licensing group homes. However, you are fortunate in that Mr. Bacalieri is someone with whom the state can trust your care,” she states firmly, before more formally adding, “On behalf of the state of North Carolina, I hereby grant custody of minor child Rey Sands to Charles Bacalieri.”

Does she rap a gavel to punctuate statement like judges on TV do? I don’t know. I don’t know anything at all, because I throw myself into Charlie’s arms, and he hugs me, rocking me back and forth as he grins. With Charlie’s arms around me, knowing I’m finally safe again, free again, something fragile within me frays and snaps. My careful façade of strength crumbles, and tears begin to pour down my face as I cry into Charlie’s shoulder.

He pats my back gently when he realizes, rumbling gently that everything’s going to be okay, that he’ll look after me, that I’ll always have a home now.

Amilyn hovers, and when I’m able to collect myself, wiping the tears off my face with my hands, she wraps me in a tight hug, too.

“Thank you, Amilyn,” I whisper, hugging her fiercely.

I know what kind of luck it is now that brought me into Amilyn’s orbit.

+++

Charlie’s house is a neat, red brick ranch-style house with white shutters in one of the quiet parts of Jakku. The homes are small and tidy, the sidewalks in good repair, and the trees and lawns green and vibrant. Kids play in the street, darting into their yards when a car comes, then back out again, on roller skates and scooters and bicycles.

This isn’t the Jakku I grew up in. I’d only ever seen it when invited to occasional birthday party.

He carries my bag for me, and after we take off our shoes inside the house, he leads me on a little tour. A large, cozy living room with a worn, plaid recliner and couch and framed portraits of Charlie and his wife on one wall, an eat-in kitchen decorated with sunflower wallpaper and lace curtains, and a hallway leading down to three bedrooms. Charlie’s got the master at the back, and he stops in front of one of the rooms.

He opens the door and motions inside, following me in before setting my bag on the bed. The room is larger than either my room at the group home or my room in the trailer, and the windows are large, filling it with sunshine. My room.

“Now, um, I haven’t decorated for you. I figured you’d want to pick your own comforter and sheets and all. If you want different curtains, that’s alright, too. I don’t know much about what a teenage girl wants her room to look like, but Leia said she’d take you shopping for everything you need this weekend, if you like.”

He grins at me, scratching at his beard.

“If there’s anything you want or need to be more comfortable, all you have to do is say so, alright?”

I nod, and when he walks back out to the kitchen, I trail after him. It’s good, but strange to be here with him. And I realize, I don’t really know what to expect. I was on my own for so long, then tossed around for four months, and this is all so surreal.

But Charlie’s already pulling open the refrigerator door and glancing back at me.

“Hungry, girly? Now, you can have whatever you want in the kitchen. Erm, don’t touch my beer, at least ‘til you’re 21. Other than that, eat what you like, when you like. I don’t know if I’ve got the things you eat, but I figured I’d take you to the grocery store tomorrow.”

_He's taking off so much time for me_ , I think fretfully.

“What about the repair shop? Who’s watching it?”

“Oh, Beau and the other guys have it in hand for a couple of days. They’re real excited to see you again. Now, mind—I don’t expect you to work. Not until you’re feeling better, and only if you want to. Alright?”

“Okay, but… what am I supposed to do?” I ask hesitantly, sitting at the square oak table at the far end of his kitchen. “I’m out of school for now, and I can’t work, so…”

“You relax. And you heal that noggin of yours,” he says with gruff affection. He burrows in the fridge for a moment, then hands me a Coke. “When you’re settled, we’ll see about if you want to come into the shop, but only as long as it’s not a drain on you.”

“What about chores? I can cook and clean while you’re at work.”

“Aw, kiddo. Don’t think of it like that. I’m a grown man, and I don’t expect you to pick up after me. As long as we pick up after ourselves, I think we’ll be fine. If I need some help, I’ll ask. Or if you see something that needs doing, go for it.”

“Oh…”

Charlie pours himself a glass of water and comes to join me at the table, sitting heavily with his old man groan and grumble, but grinning at me all the while.

“Now, there’s a few things I do want to make clear. Just so we understand each other.”

Oh. My eyes widen slightly, and I sip my Coke.

“First. You’re gonna follow doctor’s orders. All of ‘em. Even when you think you don’t need to anymore because you’re feeling better. You’re going to follow the orders until the doctor clears you. That includes your therapy sessions, too.”

My first one is in a few days. Vestibular therapy for balance, and the day after that, a cognitive remediation session to retrain my brain on how to focus and concentrate. Charlie has both sessions marked on his wall calendar. For a grizzly bear of a man, he lives such a neat and tidy life.

“Yes, sir,” I reply, smiling.

“Second. Money. I know you get your benefits check from Social Security. DCW is gonna be sending me a check every month, too, for your care. That money’s for you, Rey. I don’t need it, and so I’m gonna sign it over to your bank account. I can afford to feed ya, and if you need clothes and things, I’ll take care of that for you, too. And hell, you know Leia wants to take you out again. Save up your money, little lady. You can use it to for college or whatever else you want.”

“Are you sure, Charlie? Food costs money. Clothes cost money.”

So much money. So much of the two and a half years of my life has revolved around figuring out how to get as much food as possible with my limited resources, as well as figuring out how to make my clothes last just another year. Then another year.

He reaches out to squeeze my shoulder. “Girly, I got a successful business and a pension from the Army. I think I can afford an extra bag of groceries and whatever clothes you might need. Now, maybe not Versace, or what have you…”

I snort. Right. Me in designer clothes. Hell, me in name-brand anything is enough to make me laugh. It’s never happened, save for when Leia took me shopping last summer.

“I definitely don’t need Versace. Or Gucci. Or… whatever else. I can’t even think of another fancy designer label,” I giggle. Rose would be appalled, but probably not surprised.

“Alright then. So, um. Third thing. Boys. Or rather, a boy, since I know who exactly your fella is,” he says, giving me a teasing glance.

He coughs a little and shifts. Oh hell. Awkward conversation incoming. Craaaap.

“Erm. As I still have eyes in my head, I have an idea as to, um, how it is between you and Ben. That, um, teenagers will… you know. Anyway. I ain’t judging you girly, but can you not, erm, in this house, please?”

_Oh my god._

I nod, willing to agree to just about anything to make this conversation end, and I look anywhere but at Charlie.

“That’s settled, then. So. Last thing. No long distance calls. Not without permission, anyway.”

+++

Lunch is sandwiches and chips, and Charlie lets me start a grocery list while we meal plan together. As he adds item after item to the list, I start to wonder just how much it takes to feed a guy his size. I’m about to find out, I guess. Perhaps that’s why he thinks it’s laughable for me to fret over his grocery bill.

I want to call Ben to tell him, but I know he’s still in school, so I put away my clothes in the dresser, and I organize my books and trinkets from the boxes Leia brought over on the empty bookcase near the closet. I’m not in there too long before Charlie knocks on my door and pokes his head into the room.

“Hey now, little lady. Ain’t telling you what to do, but would you take a suggestion from an old man? I thought it might be good if you took a nap or closed your eyes for a bit. Been a long day, and it’s only two o’clock. Han and Leia invited us for Ben’s birthday dinner, and I thought you might want to rest up for that.”

“They didn’t say anything yesterday!” I say, my heart surging. “I was going to call Ben when school let out to tell him happy birthday.”

“Aw, well, we were trying to not put too much on your plate,” he says kindly. “Or Ben’s. He doesn’t know, either. He’s probably had a hard enough day without thinking about whether you’d be at dinner.”

“Would it be okay if we stopped to get him a birthday card?” I chew on my lip slightly. “And, um, I know today is a big deal for me and you, but… can we make tonight about Ben? He should be the star of his own birthday party.”

Charlie tilts his head, and he studies my face thoroughly, then nods. “Well, we can’t not celebrate having you back where you belong, but it’s Ben’s day, too.”

+++

Only two weeks have gone by since I ran away and arrived at Jakku High, wobbling and exhausted with a bruised face, but as Charlie drives through the gates of Fort Windu and through the winding streets I know so well that lead up to Ben’s house, I stare at everything like it’s the first time. The well-manicured lawns and landscaping. Brown signs with white lettering in front of the buildings, describing which units worked inside. Windu is vast. The center of the Army universe. But there’s only one thing her I want—Ben.

“Hey? You nervous, little lady?” Charlie asks, watching me shift and look out the window, craning my neck, and fidgeting with the birthday card we’d picked out for Ben.

“What? No.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Well. A little. I don’t know why. Maybe because… maybe because this is it. I’m home now, but I’ve been so scared it would never happen. It doesn’t feel real yet.”

“It’s real. It happened,” he says lightly.

If Charlie says so, it must be true.

“Rey!”

I’m barely out of the car, and Ben is running from his front door, barefoot, to come get me. Big arms pull me into his broad body roughly, and he swings me around before setting me on the ground and kissing the top of my head. He’s incandescent with joy, all wide dimples and crooked, toothy smile.

“Brought you something for your birthday, Benny,” Charlie teases.

Leia laughs, joining us outside. “Be careful or he’ll try to keep her.”

“That’s my plan,” Ben grumbles playfully, holding me securely against his broad chest. He gives me a singularly sweet smile that could melt the stars.

“Can I have a birthday kiss?” he asks.

The answer is yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE! VICTORY! 
> 
> And HELL NO, Charlie is not letting Ben and Rey turn his house into a teenage love shack! He thinks the sun shines out Rey’s ass, but he’s sure as hell not going to listen to horny teenagers get it on under his roof. He has his limits.
> 
> Sorry for the delay in posting this. As some of you may know, I got distracted by another writing project (and an insurrection and an inauguration…), and I’ve been following my muse in that direction. I am NOT abandoning this story. I made myself a promise when I started that I’d see it through, and it’s going to happen. I love Rey and Ben in this story, and this story won’t be done until we’re ten epilogue chapters deep, lol. They are my babies, and this is my first fic, and I shan’t abandon them.
> 
> We're going to be hitting some short time skips in the near future, so buckle up!
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)   
>  [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


	51. check the map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben’s POV. April 1999. Birthday. Rey settles in. Good news for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I steal as many birthday kisses as I can from Rey. Whenever my parents’ heads are turned, I pull her close and press my lips to hers, listening to her laugh and her delighted exhalations. I’ve been so hungry for her, just to have her in my arms, and now that she’s here, free, I can’t keep my hands off her. My love. My sweetheart.

School had been awful all day, waiting for the news. I hate waiting. I don’t think I’m particularly good at it. Not like Rey. At least, that’s what Poe told me at lunch when I’d been unable to sit still and before I ended up storming out of the cafeteria to go sit in the library by myself and brood.

_“Buddy, you’ve gotta chill out. You’re going to drive yourself crazy or punch somebody. And in the meantime, you’re driving the rest of us crazy.”_

Rose had been about to open her mouth to say something consoling, or perhaps something admonishing if I were more honest with myself, but I’d already gotten up from the table and stormed off toward the library.

I guess I owe everyone an apology tomorrow.

That’s all but forgotten as I sit at the table with Rey and Charlie and my parents, happily demolishing garlic bread and salad, and as we finish our spaghetti, Dad rolls his eyes and sets down his fork.

“Kid, you and your girly are killing us here with the mooning. Why don’t you two go take a walk?”

Rey blushes slightly, and Charlie snorts back a laugh, while Mom hides behind her hand, she’s laughing so hard.

“And while those two are out,” Mom says, keeping an amused eye on us, “Han and I will give you our best parenting advice, Charlie. Teenager Management 101. Just the basics that’ll keep your house from getting torched.”

Dad barks a laugh. “Do we have the right to offer advice? We’ve still got another two years to go before he’s done being a teenager.”

Mom grins, her eyes mischievous, chiding him, “We have five more years of experience with a teenager than Charlie does. And I’d like to point out, our house is still standing and everyone’s still talking to each other.”

“And God knows, I haven’t been a teenager in 50 years,” Charlie says with a big laugh. “I used to take girls to the soda fountain. Do kids do that anymore?”

I shake my head, standing up from the table and offer Rey a hand. “No sock hops and soda fountains for us, Charlie.”

“Then I expect I’ll need an update,” he muses. “Don’t stay out too long, Rey. We got grocery shopping in the morning.”

As we pass him by, Rey pauses to give him a hug and kiss his cheek. “We’ll be back soon.”

+++

We sit in the gazebo on the playground. Her hand is tucked in mine, and her head is resting on my shoulder, and we listen to the crickets chirp. Rey sighs contentedly, and I make a small noise in agreement, turning to kiss the top of her head. Having her here with me is everything I wanted for my birthday. Part of me wonders when I’ll wake up, and it’ll be another cold, lonely day without her warm sunshine smiles.

“So what now?” I ask her, gently tracing her fingers with mine.

“We live our lives, Ben. You’ll graduate in two months and go off to college. I’ll stay here with Charlie and get better and finish school.”

To my ears, even though she’s keeping her voice light and playful, I hear a wistfulness, and I don’t like it. And it’s not like I haven’t been thinking similar thoughts, how I’d be hours away from her when I need to be close to her.

“What if I put off going to college for a year?” I blurt out suddenly.

“What? No… no. Your mom would lose her mind,” Rey whispers, smacking my arm lightly. “And besides, you shouldn’t wait on me. I’m _so_ behind in school. There’s no way I’m going to graduate on time. I need to re-do my junior year, and then there’s senior year… That’s two years, Ben. Don’t wait. Go. _Please_.”

“I could get a job and stay here until you’re ready to go with me. We could do it together.”

Rey smiles sadly and she shakes her head. “Go to college, Ben. This year. It’s where you belong. I’ll get there. I’ll catch up.”

I make grumbling noises as if I’m truly displeased, and Rey laughs. The sound of her seeps into my bones, warming me, and I relax.

After a moment, her voice is soft, adding, “There were so many days I started to lose hope, but I remembered what Amilyn said to me about believing in the sun even when you can’t see it. We made it through the night. Let’s enjoy it and not worry about what’s ahead.”

I snort slightly and squeeze her hand.

“That reminds me of something my Uncle Luke used to say to me. That when you always look to the future, your mind is never on where you are or what you’re doing.”

I hate thinking about him, but even this time, I admit he has a point.

“The future’s coming for us whether we want it to or not,” Rey muses, turning her head to look up at me. I see the invitation in her eyes, and I kiss her gently, her lips sweet and soft against mine. There’s none of the frantic urgency that dominated our stolen moments at the church in Niima.

When we pull apart, she runs a finger down the slope of my jaw affectionately, a smiling tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I’d like to enjoy the present.”

“That can be arranged,” I reply with a wolfish look down at her, waggling my eyebrows, that makes her eyes widen, and she laughs as her face turns pink. I tighten my arm around her and give her hip a meaningful squeeze.

“Ben!” she says, exhaling a laugh as she wriggles against me, “I didn’t mean that. I was being philosophical.”

“Philosophy can be very sexy,” I assure her, and she groans, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

“C’mon, philosopher-king, let’s head back before you seduce me in this gazebo,” she says teasingly.

+++

After Charlie and Rey leave, I bump Mom out of the way of the sink to take over washing the dishes, giving her a slight smile. Dad’s already napping in his recliner in the living room, snoring away, mouth open, glasses drooping off the tip of his nose.

She smiles back and reaches up to ruffle my hair with a warm expression in her eyes. She’s almost serene since hearing the good news about Rey earlier today, and I’m right there with her. My heart doesn’t feel like it’s jumping in my chest, and my skin no longer feels like it’s too tight on my body.

“Was it a good birthday, Benny? I know you asked to keep it simple, but a mother always frets over not doing more. It was a big one, too. Eighteen.”

She sounds proud and wistful at the same time.

“Yep. I can buy cigarettes and dirty magazines now,” I joke. “And lottery tickets. Oh! And I can vote. That’ll be handy next year.”

Old enough to join the Army, too, but that’s not happening. No way, no how.

Mom laughs and pokes my side with her index finger.

“You’re still my baby.”

“Kind of oversized for a baby,” I tell her lightly. I’m more than a foot taller than her, and I stand taller than my dad, too.

“Doesn’t matter,” she says firmly. “You’re my baby boy. You always will be, even when you’re 40 years old. Anyway,” she sighs, giving my arm a squeeze, “Did you get everything you wanted? Any final birthday requests?”

I snort slightly, shaking my head. I have no doubt. I add more dish soap to the sponge and attack the salad bowls vigorously.

“I got what I wanted,” I say mildly and give her a glance, trying not to smile too broadly.

Mom nods in acknowledgement, leaning against the counter, watching me scrub dishes. “I know. I’m not sure your dad and I could have bought you anything that would outweigh bringing Rey home.”

“It doesn’t feel real yet. It’s what I wanted… I can’t even describe to you how happy I am, but I feel like I’m going to wake up at any moment.”

Mom knows my restlessness of the past week, waiting impatiently for Rey’s court hearing. She’s seen me up too early in the morning when she’s leaving for PT at 4:30 a.m., working my boxing bag in the garage, drenched in sweat and trying to punch the anxiety out of myself.

The second time after catching me doing everything within my power to beat the shit out of my boxing bag, she’d asked if I’d wanted to see Dr. Santekka, but I’d declined. Once a month with him is enough these days; aside from the stress of the court hearing, I’ve been weirdly okay, aside from today, that is. Weird for me, anyway. It’s freeing to live this way, without that constant cloud hovering over me, threatening to dump rain and lightning. The tension I’ve had feels… well, it’s not at all like what I felt last year, and certainly not in Chandrila.

“Rey’s got the same look in her eyes you do. Charlie was telling us she was nervous coming over here today. Said it didn’t feel real.”

_Nervous? Rey?_

“She didn’t tell me that.”

No. She’d been smiling and sweet and quiet. Very quiet, but not in a sullen way. She seemed to have been in more of a contemplative mood, slowly recalibrating herself to being back among us. She’d spent our time before dinner listening to everyone talk, laughing at our jokes, and eyeing me almost pensively even between my stolen kisses. But she hadn’t told me anything besides that she was happy.

“She told Charlie she wanted to focus on you,” she says with a wry smile. “Which is fair. It is your day, after all.”

“Yeah, but she knows she doesn’t have to pretend things for me.”

“I don’t think it was a matter of pretending, sweetheart. I think she wanted you to feel special. I think she’s tired of being the focus,” Mom says, hesitating for a second, as if debating whether to continue. After a moment, she does. “It’s going to be an adjustment for her. Living with Charlie. Being back in Jakku. Dealing with her injury. I don’t know how much you’ve considered that.”

I drop the sponge in the sink and turn to look at my mother with a frown.

“She knows we love her, and she knows all we want to do is take care of her.”

We. I mean I.

Mom sighs, “Sweetheart, that’s true. She knows. But Rey’s been through a hard time. The last four months turned her life completely upside down. Every expectation she had no longer exists.”

I turn back toward the sink, staring down at the few remaining dirty dishes.

“She still has me. Same as before.” My voice is terse, and I grip the edge of the counter as my shoulders tense.

“I know, Benny. I know you love her. But…”

“But what? You think she’s too fragile? Because she’s not.”

“Benjamin!” Mom slams her hand against the countertop angrily. “That is not what I’m saying. What I’m trying to tell you is not to push her emotionally! She needs to settle in. It was less than two weeks ago she got assaulted to the point of blacking out. As stressed as we’ve been, can you imagine how it’s been for her?”

Damn it. I whip around and look at my mother.

“I imagine how she’s feeling every moment of every day, okay?” I growl at her, trying to swallow back the surge of anger.

I try to tell myself my mother means well. That she’s not trying to insinuate I’m not thinking of Rey w-hen it’s the only thing I ever do. I know how lonely she’s been. How frightened. How angry. I know her soul. It’s the other half of mine.

“Christ, Ben, keep your voice down,” Mom hisses, motioning toward the living room where my dad grunts in his sleep, then keeps snoring. “You’re ready for a fight and there’s no fight to be had. I just wanted to make sure you saw what I saw. I’m your mother, and as much as I love you, that girl is still vulnerable.”

“I. Know.” I grit out the words, already done with this conversation.

“Alright, Benny,” she says softly, and gives me a stern look that melts into something more relaxed. “Then you take care with her. Or you know Charlie’s going to pull your arms off and beat you with them.”

Don’t I know it. I slump my shoulders and heave a heavy sigh.

“What is it you want me to do? You know I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“I know. I know. Just… let her lead a little. You don’t have to change anything. I only want you aware that she might take some time to get back to herself. She might not ever really be the same, and I’m worried that you’ll _both_ end up with hurt feelings if you try act as if nothing’s happened. Go slow, Benny.”

Mom steps toward me, and I lean down so she can kiss my cheek.

“Got it.”

Mom gives me an arch look, and I sigh. It’s like she can see right through me, see right through to the part of my brain that is casually planning to tuck Rey under one arm and run off into the woods with her and make her the bride of sasquatch.

Hmph.

+++

That night, AIM gets wild. As soon as I’d heard about Rey earlier that day, I’d messaged Poe and ask him to let Rose and Finn know Rey was back in Jakku to stay. I hadn’t told them what happened less than two weeks ago, and Hux had kept his word and not said anything about seeing her. He’s been strangely decent on that account so far this year, despite everything. Or rather, because of everything.

I have messages waiting for me from everybody.

**ImPOEssible:** This calls for a party! All the pizza we can eat, all the dancing our feet can handle! Get ready, Solo, the crew is going to CELEBRATE.

**F10w3rP0w3r:** YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. Get me Charlie’s phone number and address. I’m gonna huggle that girl so hard tomorrow after school. I know you think she’s yours, squatch, but she’s aaaaaall mine. Step off!

**88FStorm88:** Poe says we should have a party, and I am all in. Whose house? Or should we head out to the lake so we can make some noise?

**GlamazonGwen:** Heard Rey’s back and there’s a party in the works. Excellent.

**HuxSupreme:** Have you started hearing from colleges yet?

Well, I guess Hux is definitely not in the loop.

+++

By the time I make it to Charlie’s house after school, Rose is already there, and Charlie’s on his way out to check in at his auto repair shop. He pats my shoulder amiably as he passes me by.

“Happy birthday again, Ben. Go in at your own risk. Those girls are giggling something fierce.”

When I make my way into the living room, Rose and Rey are working their way through a bag of chips, faces alight with laughter. Rey looks better rested than she did last night, less strained around her eyes,

“Nooooo,” Rey laughs, taking a swig of some weird clear beverage with orange globs floating in it. “He did not say that. Finn is playing with fire…”

She sees me, and she gives me a bright smile and motions for me to come closer. I sit at her feet and lean against her legs, leaning my head back into her lap like a sheepdog.

Rose waggles her fingers at me in greeting as she snorts and pops another chip into her mouth. “Hand to god, Rey. Finn says he’s going to dispute his grade on the math test. Mr. Tarkin’s going to lose his mind.”

“Mr. Tarkin’s just going to take it out on everybody else out of spite.”

Rose hums for a second and swigs from her own drink, this one with pink globs floating in it. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t want to know.

“Honestly? Someone should take a stand. The man’s a tyrant, and he’s making everyone hate math. You’re the only one he couldn’t scare, and that’s because you’re a freak of nature.”

“I prefer the phrase ‘gifted in mathematics,’” Rey snarks, bumping her shoulder companionably against Rose’s. “Anyway, I used to be until I cracked my head like Humpty Dumpty.”

Rey sighs melodramatically, making Rose laugh.

Rose turns to me quickly, and she digs in her bag, dragging out another bottle of the weird drink she and Rey are consuming.

“Orbitz? It got discontinued last year, but I found some at the old convenience store on Ramsey Street. I got curious. Last chance to try it, Benjolomew!”

I look at the bottle with its little floating beads, and I shake my head, replying warily, “Um… save it for Finn. But thanks.”

Rose laughs happily, “Suit yourself.”

Rey curls her fingers through my hair, stroking my head lightly. It’s bliss. Especially after another awful Calc 2 class with Tarkin. They aren’t wrong about him. But right now, my only objective is to survive two more months of high school and get out of Calc 2 with a passing grade. Some days it feels like a loftier dream than others.

“So what’s the deal, Solo? Party yes? Party no? Party where?” Rose teases me, tucking the bottle of Orbitz back into her bag.

“Party? What are you talking about?” Rey pipes up, her hands stilling in my hair. I nudge her leg with my shoulder, and I can sense her amusement as her hands resume their task.

“Poe’s throwing a welcome back party for you!” Rose squeals. “You can’t come back to Jakku without people celebrating, Rey! We missed you, and now we’re going to dance our butts off in your honor. Finn is examining his connections to see about getting a keg and everything.”

“Th-that’s really sweet, Rose, but I don’t know if I’m up for anything really wild.”

“Aw, Rey! It won’t be so bad. Just us and maybe some other people who’ve been cool this year.”

“I don’t think I can… I wasn’t really into parties before, Rose, and now I’m…”

“You’re what? You seem like you’re doing better.”

I huff slightly and shift to look at Rose with a warning glance, but she’s not afraid of me, and she only rolls her eyes as if exasperated.

“Today’s a good day, Rose. But sometimes I have really bad days, too. Can’t we just do something quiet? A potluck or a cookout? Just you and Finn, Poe and Tallie? Maybe Gwen and Kaydel?”

“Well, you try telling Poe that,” Rose sighs. “He talked nonstop at lunch about it.”

“If Poe wants a party, he can have a party. I’m not the excuse he needs,” Rey mutters. “I just won’t be going.”

“Oh fiiiiine,” Rose pouts. “I’ll ask my parents if we can have a potluck at my house. My mom will absolutely lose her mind when she sees you, be warned.”

Rey seems to ease after that, and it’s not more than twenty minutes before Rose packs up her backpack and gets going. She gives Rey a hug and promises to be back soon to visit, and when the door shuts behind her, Rey groans dramatically.

“I love, love, love Rose, but for every time she understands, there are two more she doesn’t.”

“I saw that,” I muse out loud, and take Rey’s hand in mine, pulling her in for a warm hug. She fits so neatly against me, and I feel, not for the first time, the urge to fight off anything that would even mildly inconvenience her. Anything from dragons to junk mail.

“What’d you do today?” I ask, as we walk back into the living room and curl on the couch together. At this point, I can’t help myself, and I reach for her half-full bottle of Orbitz and try a zip. It’s fruity and disturbingly lumpy. Ooh, a drink is not supposed to be filled with slimy chunks. This isn’t… ugh. I set it down immediately, and Rey laughs, leaning in to nuzzle her lips against mine.

“It’s the worst, isn’t it? No wonder it’s discontinued.”

I deepen the kiss with a nip to her lower lip, and she parts her lips so I can taste her, my tongue teasing against hers.

“Mmmf. Well, um,” she says, breathlessly, pulling away from me, her cheeks pink. “What I did… I slept in. And then Charlie and I went grocery shopping at the commissary. We ate some lunch, and then I took a walk… Rose came over, and now you’re here!”

I laugh, giving her a mock-serious look, as I speak. “Full day. How are you going to keep up that pace?”

Rey smacks my arm. “It won’t always be this lax. Some days, I’ll even take a walk. I’ll show you.”

“I have no doubts.”

“I start my therapy sessions this week, and anyway, Charlie says I should focus on settling in. He’s right, too. It felt amazing to do nothing and not worry today.”

“So the raging kegger Poe wants to throw doesn’t fit into your plans?”

“Oh my god. My skull hurts just thinking about it,” she laughs, snuggling into my side. “I promised Charlie I’d be careful. I’m not supposed to drink, anyway, with my head and all.”

I kiss her forehead, and she smiles.

“How are you feeling today? About everything?”

“Relieved. Exhausted. Full of love for you and Charlie and your parents and everyone who’s been waiting for me. Rose wrote to me every week. Did you know that?”

I nod. Rose had told me whenever she received a letter from Rey, so I’d known her to be a good pen pal. She hides her face in the curve of my neck, and I stroke my fingers along the back of her neck. Her breath is warm against my skin, and I can faintly feel her lips form words.

“It doesn’t feel real yet. I think I threw up three times yesterday morning, I was so anxious, and I thought I’d never stop crying when the judge ruled in favor of Charlie. I feel… I feel happy today, but wrung out, you know?”

“Yeah. I think I do.” I kiss the top of her head. There’s a reluctance in her voice that tells me there’s more she wants to say. More she’s feeling. But it can wait. I’ll let her lead.

“Hey, can you do something for me?”

She peeks up at me curiously. “What?”

“Dance with me.”

I get up and drag her with me, and I find Charlie’s radio sitting on the kitchen counter. I flip it on and fiddle with the dial to find something danceable. Well, slow-danceable.

“You hate to dance!” she says, watching me, eyes full of amusement. Good. She’s entertained.

“I hate to dance in front of other people,” I correct. The radio stops crackling on one station, silent in between songs, and I pause to listen. “I’ll always dance for you. Any time you want.”

_She's into superstitions_

_Black cats and voodoo dolls_

_I feel a premonition_

_That girl's gonna make me fall_

Oooh no. But Rey laughs brightly, her face scrunched with effervescent delight.

“Ricky Martin!? Are you going to show me your moves, Ben?”

Red alert.

This is not the plan. Not the plan at all. But Rey’s grinning so broadly, laughter escaping her in huge guffaws that I decide to rise to the challenge, and I lunge for her, slipping an arm around her slim waist and giving her a twirl.

_She'll make you take your clothes off and go dancing in the rain_

_She'll make you live her crazy life, but she'll take away your pain_

_Like a bullet to your brain_

_Come on!_

_Upside, inside out_

_She's livin' la vida loca_

_She'll push and pull you down_

_Livin' la vida loca_

_Her lips are devil red_

_And her skin's the color mocha_

_She will wear you out_

_Livin' la vida loca_

_Come on!_

_Livin' la vida loca_

_Come on!_

_She's livin' la vida loca_

Rey laughs and laughs and we shimmy and wriggle and dance through the kitchen.

+++

There’s mail waiting on the kitchen table when I get home, just in time for dinner. My parents are hovering all-too-casually as they set the table and set down the food so we can serve ourselves.

I don’t think any of us are thinking about food, however.

Mom is nonchalant as she watches me pick up the envelopes, and I see they’re from schools I applied to last fall. She’s biting the back of her thumb, glancing over her shoulder as she goes to the refrigerator to pretend to look for a jar of pickles. Dad is decidedly more open with his interest in what I’m about to read, leaning against the counter, not even pretending to do anything else.

I peel open the envelopes, one at a time. My hands are definitely not shaking, and I am even more definitely not holding my breath.

That’s a lie. I don’t think my heart is beating right now, either. Fuck. I’d been wondering when these letters would come. Other people had started hearing back last month, and I’ve been sitting, waiting, only distracted by the ongoing drama with Rey.

I can barely stand to look at the top of the first letter.

_Dear Benjamin Organa Solo,_

_Congratulations on your acceptance…_

There’s air in the room again. My heart beats again. I breathe again. My hands stop shaking.

Holy shit.

I tear open the next letter. Another acceptance. And the third letter. Wait list. Okay. Fair enough. I’ve still got more universities to hear from, but the acceptances are from my top two picks, UNC-Takodana and Hosnia University.

“Well? Benny?” Mom’s voice breaks through the silence in the room, and I realize my parents are watching me stare at these pieces of paper, and they can’t tell what I’m thinking.

“I got in. Takodana and Hosnia. They’re sending more info soon, but, um, looks like I’ll be enrolling as a Freshman this summer. Class of 2003.”

My words stumble, and I hold out the letters to my parents. Mom doesn’t take them. Instead, she runs at me and throws her arms around my neck with a happy shriek.

“Damn, I’m proud of you,” she practically shouts, ruffling my hair and planting a noisy kiss on my cheek. “Those are such good schools, Ben. You earned this. You worked your ass off, young man.”

Now she’s got me by the shoulders, giving me a shake, and she grins at me. Mom is practically floating. Dad comes over to give me a tight hug.

“Good work, Ben. Always knew you were smart, and you made good on it. You deserve it, kid.”

Dad glances over his shoulder at Mom and gives her a teasing wink. “Sounds like you should have a beer with dinner, college man. Get ready for all those frat parties.”

“Not on a school night,” Mom cuts in, and judging from the look on her face, she means it. “But ice cream isn’t out of the question.”

I give them a big toothy grin, letting Mom ruffle my hair and hug me and make plans for taking me shopping for dorm room supplies, for a campus visit.

Dad laughs and tells me, “Now you’re going to have to buckle down and get serious about picking a major. Preferably a useful one. Ever think of basket weaving?” Dad suggests.

“History of pickles?” I counter-offer.

“Nah. You’re better off studying underwater electrical repair.”

“Honestly, you two,” Mom says as she rolls her eyes. “Benny, my advice? Study something you enjoy. Practical is good, but the degree you get is better than the one you don’t.”

“What if I double-major in something? You know I was thinking about computer science, that sort of thing… but I don’t know if that’s all I’m interested in. I think I want a career where I can maybe help people.”

“Up to you, Benny. I’ll never not give you a hard time, but your mother’s right. Study what you want. Get two degrees if that’s what feels right to you. I’m just happy you’re going,” Dad says, gruff as always, but his face is relaxed, pleased as he looks at me. “No one in my family ever went, and I’m proud you get to.”

He scratches his chin thoughtfully for a second. “Now on the other hand, you’re leaving me alone with your mother…”

“Excuse me? What are you implying?” she snarks at him, taking her seat at the dinner table, and beginning to put mashed potatoes on her plate.

“I think Dad’s saying you’re difficult to live with,” I deadpan, ducking when she throws a napkin at me as Dad tries to choke back a laugh, and ends up sputtering and attempting to hide it behind a fake cough.

“I’m the difficult one?” Mom snorts and passes the potatoes my way and then adds a piece baked chicken to her plate along with a scoop of peas. “You’ve met your father, right? Mr. Stubborn? Oh! And have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Dad fills his plate, grinning rogueishly at Mom. “Face it, princess. You like difficult people. And with the Solo men, you’ve hit the jackpot.”

I grin and happily shovel food into my mouth. College. It’s really happening. Considering just yesterday I’d suggested staying in Jakku until Rey was done with high school, I can’t believe how elated I feel to have been accepted. There’s this sense of rightness in my chest, this glow of pride, and I realize Rey’s right. I can’t stay here. I’ve got to go. I need to go.

Mom’s still grinning so hard from the news I think her face might be sore in the morning. She turns to me and puts a hand on my forearm, squeezing affectionately. “You’ve got two months left in your senior year, Ben. What’s left? Spring break? Prom? A graduation trip? A graduation party? Let’s make this special.”

“No prom,” I tell her, watching her face fall. “Most of my friends are juniors, and Rey won’t want to go.”

Mom looks disappointed but nods.

I drum my fingers on the table. “Buuut, a spring break trip would be nice. If we could bring Rey. If Charlie’s okay with that. I don’t really want to go too far. Maybe the beach?”

“That’s coming up fast,” Dad considers. “We could get a house rental someplace quiet, maybe. Pawley’s Island is supposed to be relaxing.”

He gives Mom a look over the table, and she makes a face as if doing the mental calculations. “I’ve got meetings from sunup to sundown tomorrow. If you can go to the travel office, I’m alright with something sedate.”

She gives me a quick glance. “If that’s not too boring for you, Ben? Your idea of a good time might be different than ours.”

Right. Because why would I want to be on a quiet beach with my girlfriend without any distractions? They’d never worried if I thought a trip might be boring before. I am still living in horror of how many historical homes Mom made me walk through last year.

Mom and Dad see the look on my face and crack up laughing.

“Oh, right. We forgot. Cute girlfriend in skimpy clothing on a beach. Of course, Ben’s going to have a good time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous Orbitz reference for Jammy_Dodger, as requested ages ago.
> 
> Also, I do not know why it’s so for me to come up with nonsense names for these characters. Poeseph. Benjolomew. NEVER NOT FUNNY (to me).
> 
> New musical reference: [Ricky Martin – Livin’ La Vida Loca](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p47fEXGabaY)
> 
> It was going to be Malibu by Hole, but I am a gremlin and it just struck me that Livin’ La Vida Loca would be hilarious. And if you can’t be right, be funny, I say. 
> 
> [Drive You Home – Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5kq83mbzgnHFNSCdX4Hdp7)
> 
> [JunkyardJediTrash on Twitter](https://twitter.com/junkyard_jedi)


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